


instead of love, it's trouble knocking on your door

by hailynx



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate universe - Mafia, Background Relationships, Family, Flirting, Friendship, Illegal Activities, M/M, Medical, Medical Procedures, Minor Character Death, OT12 - Freeform, Profanity, Surgery, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailynx/pseuds/hailynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for <a href="http://exopromptmeme.livejournal.com/15683.html?thread=7626307#t7626307">this prompt</a> at <a href="http://exopromptmeme.livejournal.com">exopromptmeme</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own EXO.  
> Please do not translate or repost/reupload.

“Good morning.”

 

Jongdae jumps right around but returns the greeting as pleasantly as he always does. The landlady from next door is a little bit early today and it throws him off guard, but Jongdae moulds quickly into the definition of respect. It comes easy because it’s always been a part of his nature. The woman flashes a bright smile to mirror his and waves her hand brightly in approval.

 

“It’s quite nice, isn’t it?” She replies with solid steps. “Going out to get some sun, are you?”

 

It’s seven in the morning and the markets are just opening. Jongdae doesn’t usually leave his apartment until a little after ten, so she’s a little surprised as well. He works at home quite a bit, but most of his adventures take place once the sun has set. He’s a good tenant, so people never question. Added to that, is Jongdae’s well kept appearance that keeps the suspicion away.

 

Jongdae nods in reply, brushing his light brown bangs aside and fixing the thick black rimmed glasses onto his nose, “And you, Mrs. Seo?”

 

“Just out to do some shopping,” she answers, smiling as they fall into step.

 

Jongdae tilts his head in slight confusion. He’s never seen her out shopping without her daughter’s aid before. Mrs. Seo is not old but her daughter has always been filial in his eyes. She’s never allowed her mother to go shopping on her own; always worried that something will go wrong. Jongdae can understand the concern, so it bothers him that she’s not here right now.

 

“Would you like some help?” He offers with his signature smile.

 

The woman laughs, chiding gently. “Don’t let me interrupt your day.”

 

Jongdae is a good kid, kind and polite. He’s been the ideal tenant from the day that he moved in. He’s met all of the expectations that she’s set and she’s happy to have him. Additionally, he has been kind enough to offer help whenever it is needed, whether it is in regards to housework, paperwork or making the new tenants feel at home. However, today is a little special, so she cannot take him up on his offer.

 

Jongdae frowns in return but Mrs. Seo waves him off as they part ways. She disappears quickly into the crowd and only when Jongdae completely loses sight of her, does he move on with his own plans. Breakfast is in order. Usually, Jongdae has breakfast at home but he’s been a little bit busy as of late and has not noticed that he is out of banana milk to eat with his morning cereal. That is the only deciding factor in his move to get some sun and air so early in the day.

 

Jongdae walks three blocks down, to the café around the corner. He’s been there once or twice and only comes back because of the discount. It’s not bad, but Jongdae isn’t much of a coffee person. It’s kind of pointless to go, when he receives glares from the barista for ordering a non-caffeinated drink every time.

 

“Hey!” A cheery voice greets as the bells jingle above his head. “Long time no see, Jongdae.”

 

Jongdae flashes a cool smile as he makes his way to the counter, “A good morning to you too,” he says politely and takes a careful moment to read the tiny name tag attached to the pocket of the man standing behind the counter, “Luhan hyung.”

 

Luhan pouts immediately, “Are you seriously bullying me first thing in the morning?”

 

“What?” Jongdae blinks innocently, not missing a beat in his calculated reply.

 

Luhan clicks his tongue in annoyance but drops the topic. “Nothing. What can I get for you?”

 

Jongdae glances over the menu to be polite. He never gets anything with caffeine in it, even if it is decaf. And if it is remotely bitter, he stays away. “A double shot vanilla skinny soy chai and a ham cheese tomato croissant to go, please.”

 

Luhan raises a brow, “Are you doing this just to annoy me?”

 

“Have you given me a reason to?” Jongdae paints a confused expression over his face.

 

Jongdae leaves the exact amount required on the counter. Luhan shoots him a look but punches the order through and shoos him away with a slight wave of hand. He doesn’t bother mentioning that Jongdae’s last drink, from over four months ago had been a hazelnut alternative of his current order.

 

“Minseok,” Luhan gives extra instructions that Jongdae had forgotten. “Please make the vanilla chai extra hot.”

 

Luhan likes Jongdae but the kid can be mean. They have met briefly as university students and worked on a few projects together, but to this day, Jongdae still pretends that he doesn’t know Luhan as well as he actually does. Luhan still gives him the discount but that’s mainly because he is looking forward to the payoff of Jongdae’s hard earned friendship.

 

It is not that Jongdae is unfriendly. In fact, he’s kind of everyone and has a great smile to boot. The only fact that hinders and distances people from him is his intelligence. His grades in university had called for more rivals than friends. To the rest of the population that were competing for jobs after graduation, Jongdae was seen as the lucky kid that had everything going right. It rubs people the wrong way and Jongdae doesn’t bother to fix that kind of impression. It isn’t worth his time. And time these days, is money.

 

“And who is it for?” Minseok asks, pulling Luhan back into reality.

 

“Jongdae,” he replies, pointing rudely. “The one that still looks like a kid despite being in his early thirties.”

 

“I heard that,” Jongdae tells him, coming forward to pick up his order. “How do you survive being partners with him Minseok hyung? Isn’t it hard when all the high schoolers come in just to hit on him?”

 

Luhan hisses because Jongdae is definitely doing this on purpose. There is no difference between Luhan and Minseok. They had both meet Jongdae before they’d open this café together, but Jongdae seems to adore Minseok in a way that he cannot seem to with Luhan. What’s worst is the fact that Minseok likes to play along with Jongdae to bully him. For some reason, it seems like it is added fun when Jongdae is involved.

 

“I’m working on stealing the shares,” Minseok laughs, handing the cup and paper bag over. He’s got a paper sleeve around the cup to make it easier to handle the heat. “Here you go.”

 

“Let me know when it happens,” Jongdae grins, ignoring Luhan’s whole existence, “I’ll drop by to celebrate.”

 

“You’ll get the first invitation,” Minseok winks.

 

Jongdae laughs, loudly, eyes crinkling up in the exact same manner as they had when they were still students, “Remember to give me a plus one so that we can save the trees.”

 

“Kyungsoo?” Luhan teases.

 

“Luhan hyung,” Jongdae knits his brows together. “Can you please stop stalking me?”

 

Luhan throws his fists into the air, a fight for his image but Jongdae just laughs heartily. Seeing a potential customer at the corner of his eyes, Jongdae pretends to shriek in fear as he dashes right out of the café with a few words mumbled under his breath. The business man that had looked forward to entering makes a sour face and turns away immediately.

 

“Luhan,” Minseok says, glaring. “Did you raise your fist at a customer just now?”

 

“What, no.” Luhan gawks, “Jongdae’s—urgh, that brat.”

 

* * *

Jongdae sips at his chai cheerily as he walks down a few more blocks to Kyungsoo’s small clinic. If Luhan hadn’t mentioned his old friend, Jongdae would have just gone to the park to have his meal, but there are things he can do at Kyungsoo’s. Company, is always better than none and Kyungsoo’s presence is one that Jongdae can settle into most easily.

 

Unfortunately, the clinic does not open until eight and Kyungsoo is never late or early. Jongdae ends up sitting outside for a whole fifteen minutes, sipping on his soy chai until the sign is turned. The moment that he hears the click of the lock, Jongdae makes his presence known.

 

“Good morning, Soojung,” he flashes a giant smile at the receptionist. “Is Doctor Do in?”

 

“Yes,” she replies, flustered at the sudden entrance, “But he’s said—”

 

Jongdae waves her off. “He’s only said it, never done anything about it. Don’t worry.”

 

Soojung looks completely unconvinced, but Jongdae walks through the doors to Kyungsoo’s working office without further preamble. It’s always like this, no matter how long it’s been since Jongdae’s last visit. He makes himself completely at home and even Kyungsoo doesn’t manage to stop him.

 

“What are you doing here again?” Kyungsoo questions as the door closes.

 

He doesn’t even need to look to know who has come to play. Jongdae laughs pleasantly and then places the paper bag with the toasted croissant down in front of him. Kyungsoo steals a glance at it but leaves it untouched for the time being. It’s a bribe, but is it worth it?

 

“I need some prescriptions.”

 

Kyungsoo raises a brow but keeps his sight fixed on the container in front of him, “So write them.”

 

“I don’t have a licence,” Jongdae states nonchalantly, snuggling into Kyungsoo’s personal space. He buries his head into the back of Kyungsoo’s neck and hugs tightly, not fearing that he’ll be hit because Kyungsoo’s hands are currently occupied with the cream mixture. “Help out a friend, hm?”

 

Kyungsoo elbows him anyway. “Go away, I’m working.”

 

Jongdae pulls back at the warning and finds himself a seat on the spare chair. He pulls it across the floor to Kyungsoo’s table and stares at the cream mixture that’s currently being made. Kyungsoo is mixing carefully and the blend turns a milky cream with patience. Once he’s done, he puts the container into the sealing machine, seals it off with the aluminium and caps it off. He’s scribbling something onto the label before boxing it and pushing it off to the side. Now, Jongdae has his full attention.

 

“Kyungsoo,” whines Jongdae. “I can’t sleep at night without your help.”

 

Outside the door, Soojung squeals.

 

Kyungsoo jerks his head up immediately and pulls his lips into a thin line, “Why do you insist on saying such suggestive things?”

 

“How is it suggestive?” Jongdae replies, blinking innocently. “I tell the truth.”

 

Kyungsoo shoots daggers with his eyes but Jongdae just flashes another bright smile. Eventually, Kyungsoo caves and pulls the paper bag over to study the contents of his breakfast. It’s not his favourite but it will do.

 

“Help me with the statistics report,” Kyungsoo requests, pointing to the computer. “Once you’re done, I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Jongdae sips at his chai and glances over at the computer. There’s a stack of papers next to the keyboard but it doesn’t seem like an overly complicated task. Jongdae grins in acceptance of the challenge and Kyungsoo nods in approval, reiterating his promise.

 

“Come see me when you’re done,” Kyungsoo tells him, biting into the croissant. “I’ll be seeing the patients.”

 

Jongdae jumps for the computer as the door closes and flips through the papers on the desk. Only half way through the reading does he realise the complications and curses harshly under his breath. Unfortunately, the computer has started up and Kyungsoo has locked him in. Jongdae attempts at whining but Soojung doesn’t bother answering his plea. Although he kicks his feet in protest, Jongdae makes his way over to the revolving chair and plants his butt on it for a good five hours.

 

“Are you done?” Kyungsoo asks, knocking on the door a little after lunch break.

 

Jongdae’s face is planted in the keyboard but he manages, “I’m dying of hunger. Are you going to let me starve?”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles but kindly unlocks the door, bringing along the scent of food. The lunchbox indicates a homemade meal and Jongdae knows instantly to behave. Jongdae settles down immediately and politely informs Kyungsoo of his completed work. The doctor nods in approval and hands over a pair of metal chopsticks so that they can share the meal.

 

“Enough time has gone by now, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo questions carefully.

 

Jongdae chews around his chopsticks, “That’s why I’ve finished the report in a timely manner.”

 

Kyungsoo stares sternly for another minute but then sighs and drops the topic. They finish the meal with few words, none of which is related to work. Once they’re done, Kyungsoo glances over Jongdae’s report before acknowledging that it is up to par. No matter how long it’s been, Jongdae’s knowledge comes back easily and can be trusted. Kyungsoo intends to keep his end of the deal, but this will be the very last time.

 

“Go get it,” Kyungsoo demands firmly as he hands over the scribbled prescriptions. “I’m not going to help you out for forever.”

 

Jongdae beams as if Kyungsoo hasn’t said anything and jumps in for a quick squeeze, “I love you!”

 

Kyungsoo knees him—hard. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

 

* * *

Jongdae exits the clinic at two and decides when the sun shoots bright beams at his face, that he’s spent enough time outside for the day. He is missing the comfort of his home and his purpose for the day is nearly complete. All he needs to do is make sure that he gets the banana milk home safely so that he can start tomorrow without any errors.

 

He walks it home instead of taking the bus and stops by the convenience store at the corner of his apartment to pick up the flavoured milk. The regular clerk rings it up for him with a usual sleepy look but he doesn’t mess up the change so Jongdae is content to head home to get started on dinner. His day had gone well overall and a good meal for dinner will complete it. Jongdae is content with the banana milk in hand and the prescriptions in his pocket. He is bouncing along and humming pleasantly as always, waving to the kind neighbours before he enters his home.

 

When he gets to the door, he shoves his hands into his pocket to find the keys. He opens the first metal door and then the second with ease, but there’s a weird atmosphere about. It feels eerie and unsafe, but Jongdae has a slight idea of what’s to come. He steps inside very carefully and manages a good five steps to turn on the lights before a hand tugs at his collar and drags him in. Jongdae cannot find a clear line of vision with the amount of jerking but he can still feel and hear things rather clearly. Behind him, the door shuts with a quiet click but there’s a chill of a metal gun pressing against his forehead.

 

“Aw fuck,” Jongdae curses. He drops the milk carton and quickly puts his hands up in surrender. “Which one did I save this time?”


	2. Chapter 2

There’s a loud and rich laughter that echoes towards his ears. Jongdae really doesn’t think that he’s being funny at the moment but whatever floats the boat so that he stays alive. Jongdae is currently riding on unsteady waters and needs to do his best to obey. As much as he’d like to be used to it, the chill of the gun is hard to become acquainted with.

 

“Do you deserve to die for saving lives?”

 

The voice that comes is amused, but breathing a little uneven. Jongdae’s line of vision is still obscured by the metal gun on his skin so he keeps as still as humanely possible. However, he doesn’t feel as endangered as he probably should. The scent of blood fills his nose and the scarlet blotches are splattered messily by his feet, but he can tell from the fact that they have still allowed him to breathe, that he is still needed. Medical aid is the only thing that Jongdae can offer though, so he knows that he can be safe until the deed is done.

 

“I don’t know,” Jongdae replies with equal amusement. “You could be Song’s enemy who’s pissed because I helped him,” Jongdae rethinks that statement—there’s probably more than that. “Or Lee’s. You tell me.”

 

“That’s interesting.” The cough mixed is with a chuckle and Jongdae swears it sounds immensely painful, but people of this kind are probably more used to it than he is giving them credit for. “But we can get to that after you save me.”

 

Jongdae blinks in realisation—the golden hour.

 

“Sure,” Jongdae replies, with a bit of unintended cheer. “If you’d kindly clear the trash.”

 

The grip on the gun in front of him tightens but the victim lying on his carpet laughs with an exceptionally deep voice and waves a hand to have the weapon lowered. Once his line of sight is cleared, Jongdae does a quick scan of his home. His whole carpet is now a mess of red and it’s an obvious sign to get moving. However, the man is still speaking, so he can assume that the blood loss is still on the lower spectrum. Still, he takes quick strides into the living room, ignoring the number of suited men line up and peels the leather jacket off, tossing it over the armrest of his couch.

 

He stands still for a moment, looking down at the victim, who is ghastly pale but stained with a touch of blood and sweat. It’s not a neat sight but at least, it looks like they have completed the necessary steps to first aid. Jongdae nods his head in approval and walks around to the cupboard on the right side of his television stand to rummage through his medical instruments.

 

“Hey, you kids mind refrigerating my carton of milk?” Jongdae asks, with his face shoved in the cupboard.

 

They’re not doing anything useful and if Jongdae is going to survive this, he’ll need the milk in the morning.

 

One of the minions hiss, “Is that important right now?”

 

Jongdae laughs, “I know good first aid when I see it.”

 

“Just do as the doc says, Sehun,” the victim commands.

 

Jongdae smiles as he rummages through his cupboard. He can tick off the clear for airway and breathing from the amount of talking that the victim is doing, but he’ll have to make sure of it again when he comes for a closer inspection. Once Jongdae has found what he needs, he rolls his sleeves up and sterilises his hands before pulling on fitted gloves for operation. Then he picks up the prepped metal try of instruments and drops it onto the coffee table as he kneels before the patient.

 

At a closer look, Jongdae can tell that he’s a high class kind of guy. His suit is carefully tailored and each piece is probably worth a hell of a lot of money. Jongdae wonders very briefly, how much he can make before he pulls at the buttons of the jacket and then the dress shirt. He expects to see skin but is exhausted when he finds another layer of tank underneath.

 

“Can you tell me your name?” Jongdae asks, following protocol.

 

“Chanyeol,” he answers, head swaying back and forth, vision blurring by the second.

 

Jongdae nods in approval, “And age?”

 

He picks up a pair of scissors from the tray to cut through the cotton material, to enable himself a clearer view of the wounds. He hopes that the man doesn’t mind, but really, he doesn’t have a choice here. Jongdae wants to avoid moving the victim as much as possible until he can tell where all the damage is. The tank top is already ruined, with the holes that have already been punched into it.

 

Chanyeol jerks right up, despite the pain and glares through lidded eyes, “Did you just cut through my favourite tank?”

 

Jongdae knots his brows together in confusion. “So you can tell that I’ve cut your favourite shirt, but not how old you are… that’s a problem.”

 

Everyone that he’s met in this world is so odd it’s amusing.

 

There’s a hiss from behind that gets Jongdae moving. He’s already on it but he makes a bit more haste in his actions to avoid having the gun go off on his head. Although Jongdae isn’t looking, he’s been around long enough to feel even the slightest chill of cold metal on him. However, most of his patients are more polite than this.

 

“That’s why I’m relying on you to fix me up, doc,” Chanyeol laughs, a little delirious.

 

At this point, Chanyeol is hoping that he’s made the right choice by staying in Sunhwa-Dong. Chanyeol actually has a doctor of his own, but he knew that he wouldn’t have made it all the way home to be treated. He’s heard about the small doctor living Sunhwa-Dong several times but this is their very first encounter. Chanyeol doesn’t hang around the area much and maybe he shouldn’t, because the first time has put him into such a terrible predicament.

 

“I guarantee nothing,” Jongdae replies as per usual.

 

Jongdae glances over Chanyeol’s abdomen and is glad to see that the bleeding has been controlled. He places a hand on Chanyeol’s wrist to check for a regular pulse and asks the victim to try moving his other limbs. When Chanyeol manages he mentally ticks spinal cord injury off of his list. Jongdae goes through the list again once he’s got circulation cleared. The airway is good, so is breathing, the circulation is confirmed and so is the lack of damage to his spinal cord.

 

“Okay, I need to check…”

 

Chanyeol turns for him without waiting for his debriefing. Chanyeol knows how this goes; he’s been shot more than once his career. Jongdae doesn’t fight the victim and pays attention to his body only. He is glad to find that there isn’t any sign of exit wounds. He places Chanyeol back into the recovery position and peels off the plastic cover that’s sitting on the wound. It’s a whole mess of red that he attempts to wipe away with iodine solution poured on a clean cotton pad.

 

When he can get a clear view, Jongdae’s widen in disbelief and disapproval. “Did you remove the bullets?”

 

Chanyeol grunts, uncurling a fist to let the bullets fall with metal clatter to the ground. “Three of them—there are two left.”

 

Chanyeol has just confirmed that the bullets are not roaming. There are two as he says, stuck in his skin, dragging clothing material in with it. Jongdae bites down on his lips and thinks through all the solutions and possibilities. It’s usually safe to leave the bullets in but can Chanyeol afford to visit a hospital ten years later, if the bullet decides to roam around, causing danger?

 

“Doc, remove the bullets won’t you?” Chanyeol asks, “I know it’s unwise, but it’s making me sick.”

 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Jongdae reasons—not yet ready to make a decision.

 

“The boss is trying to say that the bullet’s been tampered with,” Sehun hisses behind him. “It could be poisonous.”

 

Jongdae considers that and turns away to the metal tray and picks up the pre-sterilised equipment and catches sight of the gun that is still pointed at the back of his head. He chuckles a little but wipes the wound one more time with the iodine solution dampened cotton pad. He recognises the bullet—a 9mm load, likely from a Jericho nine-forty-one semi-automatic. Usually, the gun indicates an encounter with law enforcement but if it has been tampered with, it may be a stolen gun. However, Jongdae doesn’t ask. That’s one of his policies. The less he knows, the safer he is.

 

Jongdae grabs the needle and the viral of anaesthetic from his metal try. “Do you have time to sleep on an anaesthetic, Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol winces. “Do it without.”

 

Jongdae drops the two items back down and picks up the thumb forceps instead. Jongdae does what he’s good at but usually, he complies with the client’s request. Some argue that they know their limits best and Jongdae wouldn’t argue with that. Chanyeol is glad that the doctor is agreeable, contrary to his personal doctor who is always worried about his pain. He knows that it isn’t always necessary to take out the bullets, but if it is poisoned, they’ll have more problems on their hands. Jongdae isn’t apt at dealing with poison, especially when it’s new and experimental.

 

Jongdae’s small chuckle rings in his ears and is mildly distracting as he pulls one of the bullets out. He’s careful but Chanyeol yelps in pain anyway. Chanyeol jerks his head up and Jongdae takes the opportunity to pull the second one out causing Chanyeol to slump back down immediately. It hurts a little more now that he’s aware of it. Jongdae winces a little as he grabs onto the loose clothing with his forceps and pulls. It rips at the skin and Chanyeol’s face contorts in pain, but he makes sure that it is over quick enough.

 

“Fuck,” Chanyeol winces, “Sehun take the bullets back, yeah?”

 

Jongdae hands over the bullet with one hand and presses down on Chanyeol’s wound with the other to make sure that the bleeding stops once more. Chanyeol squirms underneath his hand waving his men to lower their guns _again_. Jongdae seems to approve of the action as he gets on with his work, tossing the thumb forceps back onto the tray to grabbing the clear dressing. He wipes the wound down again with the iodine solution and dresses the open wounds with a well sterilised dressing.

 

Jongdae waits a moment to ensure that the bleeding has stopped completely and then removes his current gloves to fix them up with new ones. On top of the dressing, he needs to wrap the patient in a gauze bandage to ensure maximum pressure is applied. Chanyeol winces as Jongdae wraps, pulling tighter each time, but he actually feels better. Chanyeol hadn’t loss much blood and lying down has given his head some good circulation. Now that he can finally see properly without any blurs, he almost feels as good as new.

 

At the fifth wrap around, Chanyeol feels secured enough to be playful. Jongdae’s got an arm underneath the small of Chanyeol’s back; brows knotted in concentration as he straightens out the gauze and pulls it around. Once his hands meet and he pulls it away to start the cycle again, Chanyeol takes advantage of his relaxed posture and pulls Jongdae forward. He loops an arm over Jongdae’s waist and pulls him face to face; smiling when Jongdae places a hand on his shoulder to prevent himself from weighing down on Chanyeol’s wound. A considerate doctor then, he concludes as he’s shown the sharp features of the capable doctor.

 

“Oh?” Chanyeol breaks into a grin, “You’re cute, doc.”

 

Jongdae graces him with a blinding smile, “Is that so?”

 

Chanyeol’s almost fooled, but with each word that he pronounces, Jongdae pulls the gauze bandage tighter, until it actually hurts.

 

“Ow… ow!” Chanyeol cries, letting go. “I’m sorry! Please—”

 

Jongdae pulls upright, seemingly unfazed and secures the gauze with a bit medical tape. “You’re good to go, Chanyeol.”

 

If he were checked into a hospital, they’d make sure he stays, but Jongdae is no doctor. He’s done what he can and Chanyeol is free to go as he likes. There’s nothing more that Jongdae can do in his tiny little home. He expects Chanyeol to know how to change the dressing and how to take care of the wound so that the recovery is quick. All of them do actually. They just need the immediate attention to ease the trauma.

 

Chanyeol groans in his spot. “And if I don’t want to?”

 

Jongdae gives him a glance over and shrugs, “Can I make you?”

 

They’ve got guns in his home and they have pretty much picked the lock to get in so there’s no guarantee that Jongdae will be left alone even if he kicks them out now. However, he keeps it as polite as he can endure it, so that he’ll be earning something for his work. It won’t be surprising though, if Jongdae is left empted handed for his services. Unfortunately, in this world, cheating can happen and nothing can be done about it. Both parties do not want trouble and so, they just have to deal with it.

 

Despite that Jongdae is not about to let them disturb his normal routine. Jongdae goes around his home carefully but does as he normally does after each visit that he gets. For some reason, everyone insists on coming in bloody and leaving like they’ve done nothing wrong. He cleans up the splatters of blood on his floor and wipes down everything else that he finds dirty. Once he’s satisfied, he peels the gloves off to wash his hands again.

 

After he manages to rid his home of most of the scent, he moves onto the kitchen. Dinner is the next agenda. Before grabbing the ingredients, he checks his fridge and is happy that the milk as been carefully stored away. He’s glad to see that Sehun had done as requested and chilled his milk.

 

“Sehun, give me a hand,” Chanyeol commands.

 

Jongdae glances over to see Chanyeol wincing in pain and debates on the pain killers. It’s not that bad but he can still offer it—not that he doubts their abilities to get their hands on some.

 

“Thanks doc,” Chanyeol flashes a grin when he catches Jongdae’s glance. “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

 

Jongdae nods and dries off his hands to go search in his side cupboard for some other medical items. He grabs a fist full of extra dressing and gauze to hand over. He is certain that these are clean and new. Items in hand, Jongdae strides across his living room to the door where they are gathered and hands over the items that he’s gathered.

 

“If it bleeds through, clean up and wrap a new dressing and gauze around it,” Jongdae instructs, “But make sure you change it daily.”

 

“Aww,” Chanyeol coos, flicking Jongdae’s nose. “I’ll be sure to do that, doc.”

 

Jongdae shoots a glare, swatting Chanyeol’s hand away but doesn’t beat around the bush. He hands over his business card easily. Unlike a few others who work exclusively with their favourite clients, Jongdae has a part time day job and isn’t always readily available to be beckoned at any moment. He will usually pick up his phone and determine whether or not it will be appropriate to attend. If not, then he’ll make the best recommendation.

 

“Next time you need medical attention, you’d better call first,” Jongdae suggests, as per usual when he meets someone new. “And don’t break into my apartment again or I’m reporting you to the authorities.”

 

“Sweet,” Chanyeol winks pressing the card to his lips and ignoring all other warnings. “I’ll call you tonight.”

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother to tell Chanyeol that the number he had handed over is strictly meant for business. Many have met with painful encounters for trying to hit on him. Chanyeol will learn that with time, if he intends to have Jongdae’s service in the future.

 

* * *

The morning sun is bright so Jongdae turns away from the curtains, into his layers of blanketing. He’s got two but sometimes, it’s still too cold for him to endure. Jongdae doesn’t bother getting out though, just pulls the blanket in to allow no air to pass through. He doesn’t get to fall back into a deep sleep though, recounts of last night flashing as he comes to. That’s when the phone rings making him glare at it. Jongdae never sets an alarm so it can only be a phone call. Begrudgingly, Jongdae reaches over to check the number but it blurs out and he picks up, because he doesn’t want to miss an emergency.

 

“If this is Chan—” Jongdae pauses. He knows that voice. “Hyung, you’re back in the country?” He rolls right up and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, get me some of that. And—shut up. No one’s hitting on me.”

 

Jongdae nods even though no one sees them and then stays seated for a moment as he registers his agreement. The sun is up high and bright. Jongdae does a double take and checks his phone again for the time. It’s just hit noon—how the heck did he sleep in? Rubbing his eyes again, Jongdae stumbles out of bed and makes his way into the living room. Once again, the scent of blood fills his nose and he groans. He’d forgotten to take care of the carpet.

 

Muttering curses under his breath, Jongdae moves his coffee table and rolls up the small carpet and tucks it away into a plastic bag. He ties it up carefully and puts it into the corner. He’ll have to get rid of it later because breakfast is in order and he needs to get back into routine. He grabs the remote controller for the television and turns it on to check the news and temperature. He’s interested to know, if a Jericho nine-forty-one has been stolen or not.

 

But the news is as quiet as the morning weather. Of course, the government would censor something like this. Jongdae fills up his bowl of cereal and pours a generous amount of banana milk into it. He starts digging in while flipping through the channels for anything of interest. In the end, he settles for the weather to decide on his clothing for his trip outside today. Seoul is cool, but it’s still bordering on cold so it isn’t unexpected that the report comes up as thirteen.

 

Jongdae finishes breakfast and makes to clean up. It’s become a habit to wash his dishes right after a meal thanks to Kyungsoo. It keeps everything neat and tidy because there’s never a mess building up in his sink. Once he tries his hands, he grabs the essentials for the day out and slips out of the door. Jongdae locks up securely and then wraps the scarf around his neck, while looking left and right for any lingering neighbours.

 

Moving forward, he tucks his hands into his pockets and buries his chin into the scarf around his neck. It’s still a bit chilly but it’s getting warmer as summer comes around. The first round the Jongdae takes around the park is just a friendly stroll. When he goes around the second time, he stops to buy a cone of choc mint ice cream. He grabs a small spoon with him as he goes to sit on one of the benches and begins to eat slowly, breaking small bits of his waffle to feed the birds.

 

“Why do you eat your ice cream like that?” The contact asks, scrunching the newspaper in her hands.

 

Jongdae answers with soft chuckles, not bothering to turn to the voice of the lady sitting behind him, “A friend told me to stop being suggestive.”

 

He continues to spoon bits and pieces of his ice-cream into his mouth, humming pleasantly when the flavour melts on his tongue. Ice cream is a good lift me up and can be eaten no matter what the whether—even if it means getting a brain freeze.

 

“Do we have all day, Amber nuna?”

 

She clicks her tongue. “I’m checking if you were followed. Be quiet.”

 

“I wasn’t,” Jongdae assures her. “So get on with it. I have to get to the school.”

 

Amber doesn’t trust him and does a double check. Once she’s happy, she pulls the newspaper back up and pretends to read through it. Jongdae isn’t even trying to pretend. He’s still scooping his cone with the small spoon and humming like a child. Jongdae is very normal and hasn’t changed much from when he was still in high school. He has no intentions of changing either because of how his current lifestyle runs.

 

“The boss wants you to be the head surgeon.”

 

“He doesn’t usually ask,” Jongdae replies immediately.

 

Amber shuffles, turning the page. “It’s a machine.”

 

“I thought—” Jongdae stops himself before he goes too far.

 

He’s promised not to meddle in exchange for his own privacy and safety. However, it’s undeniable that this new assignment bothers him. Unfortunately, not growing close is hard and the man had been his very first client. They have both vowed never to touch the Red Market, so this news is truly a surprise. But, at the same time, it’s not much. Everyone is desperate when the waiting list for donors is so long.

 

“Heart?”

 

“No,” Amber’s reply is quick, helping to rid of his unease. “Not that.”

 

Jongdae sticks the spoon into his mouth and keeps it there even after the ice-cream has melted. He doesn’t want to give anything else away, from his breathing to the sounds of relief that he can make. He draws out his answer for as long as he can. Jongdae knows that he can say no, but something holds him back from doing so. He knows the man well enough and if it isn’t seriously urgent, he probably wouldn’t resort to the Red Market. However, the morals of the people in the underworld are always questionable. That includes Jongdae’s own.

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“That’s what he wants you to do,” Amber replies.

 

She gets up, unfolding the newspaper and throwing it into the trash. Amber walks away without looking back and Jongdae eats his ice cream with a little bit less cheer.

 

* * *

The week after, Jongdae is turning in from a race site and isn’t expecting anything outside his door. He’s actually always anticipating a presence inside his home, but it’s rare that people wait outside. Chanyeol seems to deny all of the conventions he’s come to know. The man is couched down at the front of his door with the blinding smile as he speaks to Mrs. Seo and it makes Jongdae want to backtrack. However, Chanyeol spots him first and stands right up taking a few strides over before he can run. Damn those legs.

 

“Hey, doc.”

 

He’s got his arms outstretched but before he can loop them, Jongdae’s index finger is pressed against his old wound, in warning. Jongdae’s got a smile on his face because of his landlady but he’s not happy at all. Chanyeol looks down carefully at the tinge of pain and then twirls to stand by Jongdae’s side, hand still sliding down to his shoulder but in a friendly manner rather than intimate. This is the first time that he’s seen a doctor carry around a scalpel for safety.

 

“You should give your boyfriend the spare key,” Mrs. Seo smiles warmly. “I was getting worried.”

 

Jongdae nods with a small polite smile. “Ah, if that’s okay, I’ll do that.”

 

Mrs. Seo grins at him and turns to head in, but then her daughter pokes her head out, “Mum, the drama’s—oh, oppa.”

 

“Good evening, Jinri.” Jongdae smiles politely.

 

She looks between him and Chanyeol, eyes widening and then pulling a small smile across her lips. Jongdae groans inwardly and taps roughly at Chanyeol’s hand over his shoulder and then pulls away. However, Mrs. Seo and Jinri are not there to save him. Instead, they’re gleeful that he finally seems to have a guest after his normal hours.

 

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” mother and daughter wish him with giggles.

 

Jongdae sighs and pulls his hands down his face. They’re never going to let it go. When their door closes, Jongdae mutters curses at Chanyeol under his breath but goes to his own door. He shoves the keys in and turns it with ease, but doesn’t open fully and after the first attempt, Jongdae doesn’t try it again. He just works on opening it enough for them to fit. Once it’s adequate, he shoves Chanyeol inside roughly. The man shouldn’t be associating with people that Jongdae associates outside of his work. It’s unacceptable.

 

When Jongdae follows, he looks down at the floor to find the blocking package and is glad that it has arrived safely without any signs of customs opening it up. Chanyeol is still looking around like he hasn’t broken in before and takes off his shoes slowly. Jongdae advances forward, kicking the box along. He knocks on the wall so that Chanyeol pays attention to the signs and heed his warnings.

 

“No smoking and no illicit drugs on premises?”

 

“Correct,” Jongdae agrees. “So make sure you put that lighter back into your pocket.”

 

Chanyeol fiddles with the lighter, amused. The doctor is way too observant. “Done.”

 

“Where are you hurt today?”

 

He sees no sign of blood but he’s not going to turn the client away. Chanyeol had left a generous sum of money for the last time. Jongdae will not say no to business. Besides, he’s found that some people in the business have taken enough of a liking to make him their general practitioner as well as an emergency source of relief. Jongdae cannot do much about prescriptions but he can recommend some over the counter equivalents. Otherwise, he will name the drug needed and they will find a way on their own.

 

“Here,” Chanyeol grins sheepishly.

 

He points right at his chest where his heart sits quite comfortably. He’s about to explain the problem but Jongdae leans in, pressing his ears close. Jongdae relaxes against Chanyeol’s weight and closes his eyes to listen. He doesn’t need a stethoscope for a little trick like this. Chanyeol’s words die in the back of his throat—medical pick up line taught by his usual doctor slipping away. His heart is already beating too erratically.

 

“This is a problem.” Jongdae states with deep concern.

 

“Isn’t it?” Chanyeol gasps. “I’ve been worried about it since I met you.”

 

“Quite,” Jongdae nods, pulling away and pulling his index finger down the middle of Chanyeol’s chest. “I think I’ll have to cut you open to see.”

 

“Eh—” Chanyeol squeaks.

 

Jongdae flashes a malicious grin, causing Chanyeol to shudder and step back for his safety. Over the last few weeks, Chanyeol has actually heard some things but has found it hard to believe. However, now that the doctor says it, Chanyeol is sure that he is capable of cutting him opening just for the fun of it. Or, to teach him a lesson that he’s not so willing to learn.

 

“Please just check on my gunshot wounds,” Chanyeol replies in defeat.

 

Jongdae nods in agreement to that. He’d pressed against the wound before and Chanyeol hadn’t winced so it is probably well healed but checking it isn’t a problem. There will definitely be scars to tell the story but a check up never really hurts. He directs Chanyeol into the spare room where most of his other supplies are and sits him on the bed, asking him politely to lift his shirt up.

 

As he had seen it last time, there are a whole bunch of other scars on Chanyeol’s body. The recent gunshot wounds are mixed in there but he remembers where the wounds had been so he spots it and keeps his eyes fixed on it. It’s fully healed and Chanyeol’s done his part to nurse his body to health so there’s nothing much to worry about. They just need to be careful for a while longer.

 

“You didn’t notice any excess bleeding or anything?” Jongdae asks.

 

“You cleaned it thoroughly,” Chanyeol states smiling.

 

“Did you come all the way down here just for a check up?” Jongdae asks.

 

He hasn’t heard of Chanyeol’s name around this area. Occasionally, he’ll hear about others around Seoul but Chanyeol is a new name and face. He’s pretty certain that Chanyeol is not from around here, because if he were, Jongdae would definitely know. It’d probably been a chore to come down here. Usually, Jongdae works in this area, coming and going as requested. Rarely, does he help with emergencies any further than an hour away. That’s _too_ long and often; they’ve got the service of another in the area. Other than that, he’s often down at the race sites to be on standby for potential crashes.

 

“Well, you tended to the wound so you’d know best,” Chanyeol answers.

 

Jongdae hums as he dresses the wound again and pulls Chanyeol’s shirt back down. “You’re good to go, Chanyeol.”

 

Chanyeol hops off the bed and stretches out, wincing just a bit when he stretches the skin around his wound. It’s not much pain but the tinge of it that catches him off guard just heightens it a bit. Jongdae is cleaning up again, tossing dirty items into the nearby bin and peeling off his gloves to follow with the trash.

 

“I never got your name doc.”

 

“It came with the contact number,” Jongdae tells him. “I can’t help if it means nothing to you.”

 

Chanyeol frowns at that and pockets his fists, upset. However, when he rummages around, he finds a card in his pocket and turns his lips up with glee. Pulling it out to show off, with his bright smile, Chanyeol is shot down once again when he finds that the business card is no longer in a useable state. The scribbling of the doctor’s name and number has been destroyed in the washing.

 

“Can’t you give it to me again?”

 

Jongdae shakes his head, “One card per client.”

 

“Don’t be stingy.”

 

“You should be more considerate of trees,” Jongdae replies, ushering Chanyeol out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been forever, but exchanges are finally over and this is almost done too! ^^


	3. Chapter 3

In the package are a set of medical reports and the scan results of the patient that Amber had spoken about at their last meeting. Just looking at the cover brings a migraine but Jongdae shoves the medical products that he’d requested aside and picks up the reports that Amber had sent for him. Jongdae flips through the report as he turns on his laptop to pull up the scans file. It’s seems like an urgent case from what he’s reading but once he looks at the scans, he’ll know how soon this needs to happen.

 

He double-clicks the files as needed and looks through them, one by one carefully. There’s no internal bleeding of any kind but the state of the organ doesn’t look good at all. Flipping through the scans, Jongdae grows agitated and knows how this can be urgent to Yifan, if he also thinks that it’s problematic and needs to be addressed as soon as possible. His brain is ticking of all the possibilities and needs when his phone goes off and cuts off his concentration. Cursing, Jongdae reaches over, but keeps his eyes on the screen.

 

“Speaking,” Jongdae replies with the phone clamped between his shoulder and neck. He listens carefully but there’s no sense of urgency and this is not the purpose of his particular number. “If there’s no emergency— _Chanyeol_.”

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes and listens for another moment and then hangs up. There’s no real emergency at hand—Chanyeol had wanted to say _good afternoon_. It’s completely unnecessary and although it’s a first, Jongdae knows just how to deal with it. He saves Chanyeol’s number for future emergencies and then sets it aside. Then he runs his eyes over the documents again and ignores the ringing from his phone that comes from the same number. After the second ignored calls, he starts getting a spam of text messages instead. Just seeing the phone flash is exhausting but Jongdae checks it anyway, out of concern. When he deems them nothing, he makes a mental note to speak to Sehun personally.

 

Once he’s done analysing, Jongdae decides to get some fresh air to clear his head. Jongdae pockets both phones and heads out. He’ll get the groceries done restock of his supply of banana milk and cereal while he’s at it. The neighbours greet him as he passes by and he stops to make small conversation to entertain them. Jongdae always tries to maintain normal relations outside of his work to ensure that people have something to say. Better something to say than nothing at all to arouse suspicion.

 

“Are you still just teaching at the school?”

 

“Yes,” Jongdae nods, “It’s important to educate children about health and first aid.”

 

“We’ve heard praises though and you’re much too apt to be stuck in such a small place.”

 

Jongdae chuckles, eyes crinkling at their praise, “Any other environment would be too fast paced for me.”

 

His neighbours chuckle but nod in agreement. Jongdae’s a very talented person but he’s always been easy going. Ever since Jongdae moved in, they have only seen him move at his own pace and flow—even when helping others. However, he gets the job done so they don’t have much to worry nor be annoyed at. But as he’s said, maybe a fast paced environment will be a disappointment for him. There will be no time for him to concentrate on the more important matters that Jongdae has indicated in the past and continues to indicate.

 

“Well, we’d better let you go.”

 

Jongdae nods again and bows in his thanks. He wishes them well for the rest of their day and rushes off to catch the bus to the market. During the silent ride, he takes some time out to overview the medical status and thinks about which way his decision should lean towards. His client is direct this time and he appreciates it, but it’d have been easier if he didn’t know this little detail about illegal organ trafficking. Jongdae knows it happens—hell, a whole bunch of morally clashing things are committed by the people that he earns his living from but it’s easy to turn a blind eye when he doesn’t ask and they don’t say.

 

“Urgh,” Jongdae whines and pulls on his hair, earning a few odd looks. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

 

Chuckling awkwardly, Jongdae makes his way off the bus and turns his thoughts solely to food. He searches through the market for the fresh ingredients required of the simple recipes that Kyungsoo had taught him and buys the amount needed before hopping on the same bus to head home.

 

From the front door, Jongdae makes his way right towards the kitchen and gets started on cooking. He boils the water as needed and begins to sort out his ingredients. Jongdae takes what he needs and stores the rest, exactly as Kyungsoo had instructed. Once done, he turns back and begins finely dicing and slicing his vegetables and adds them to the stew.

 

He lets the stew simmer and walk distractedly, around his apartment in circles. In the end, he calls Kyungsoo first to consult. His friend asks few questions that Jongdae answers to earn a second opinion. However, when Kyungsoo grows suspicious and begins pressing for other information, Jongdae shuts him down by hanging up. Kyungsoo doesn’t call back. Instead, he sends a short message with a warning for Jongdae to heed and then the phone is silent.

 

Jongdae sits on his conversation with Kyungsoo for a short while. Once his stew is done though, he sets everything aside and sits down to have lunch alone. However, even as he’s spooning the rice through the soup, the patient bothers him. In the end, Jongdae shoves the rice down his throat and puts his client on loud speaker. It’s going to keep bothering him if he doesn’t get his answers.

 

“Jongdae?”

 

Jongdae cuts right to the chase. “Why me?”

 

“Because I trust you.”

 

Jongdae pauses, considering. He can live with trust.

 

“You’ll need to put together a team,” Jongdae informs and the client agrees. Jongdae doesn’t have enough connections to pull a team together himself. “Okay. When do I fly out?”

 

* * *

“You’re picking me up personally…”

 

Jongdae is a little dumbfounded by the fact that Yifan is standing in front of him with the widest gummy smile. He has to look up and now that Yifan is getting closer, that smile is kind of creepy. The man is usually stern, with brows knotted together to be intimidating. It’s not impossible to see him during the day, but usually, he doesn’t interact with Jongdae unless he’s _dying_.

 

“I thought there were eyes everywhere.”

 

“They aren’t on you today,” Yifan replies evenly, grabbing for Jongdae’s bag.

 

Jongdae raises a brow and steps back to protect his belongings. Yifan has bad habits because he’s a lot bigger than Jongdae. Sometimes, he treats Jongdae like a child that cannot hold his ground and Jongdae’s determined to train him out of that. Jongdae tucks the bag under his arm and begins walking, making Yifan follow.

 

“You’ll be operating on an important member of the Triad today.”

 

Jongdae just nods in acceptance of the information that he’s been given and doesn’t ask anymore. He is a little curious and on guard though. Even though he’s popular and well known in the underground world, Yifan is just a merchant. He’s not even a part of the Triad. Jongdae knows that they trade regularly, but he worries about what it may be that has Yifan actively trying to save a member.

 

“And the surgical team?”

 

Yifan opens the door like a gentleman and shuts it after Jongdae is carefully tucked inside. Yifan hopes into the driver’s seat and nods in affirmation. It’s had been hard to fit everyone’s schedule, but he had managed to pull the strings.

 

“The people that I trust the most.”

 

“That’s good,” Jongdae replies.

 

Jongdae sees determination and knows instantly that Yifan’s decisions are probably not made lightly. In contrast, he’s probably the most worried and nervous, even if he had handpicked everyone on the team. Jongdae only worries about a personality clash, but if they’re trying to save a person, it will work out. It’s a short period of time anyway, so they won’t engage much to be at each other’s throats.

 

“Just don’t go breaking rib bones, yeah?” Yifan replies, hoping to lighten the mood.

 

Jongdae pouts, “Are you ever going to let that go?”

 

“Never,” Yifan shoots back, but he’s smiling. “I seriously though I was going to die.”

 

“But you didn’t,” Jongdae retorts, “And all because of that broken rib.”

 

The memory of how he came to be in this world is vivid. It had been one step of kindness but it had changed everything. Jongdae is able to laugh fondly at the memory because he had gotten out of a slump thanks to it. Something had taken over at that moment and even an hour in, Jongdae had kept trying. An hour later and a broken rib to follow, Yifan had been revived and was sent on the ambulance that had _finally_ arrived, for further medical attention.

 

“Do you think it’ll be alright?”

 

“You know there are risks on every table hyung,” Jongdae answers.

 

He’d looked over everything he’d gotten carefully and even briefly consulted Kyungsoo on the risks and after effects. Of course, they exist, but they’re quite minimal unless something seriously goes wrong on the table. Jongdae cannot reassure him with one hundred percent certainty because if something does go wrong, he won’t be able to rectify it.

 

“Yeah.”

 

The rest of the ride is taken under complete silence. Yifan concentrates on the road and Jongdae falls into light slumber. He doesn’t know China well and doesn’t need to remember the directions or anything of the like. Yifan allows him to nap and only wakes him up after they’ve arrived. Jongdae opens his eyes to darkness, almost like night but it’s probably just the location that they are at.

 

“Where…” Jongdae mumbles, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Oh, Yifan hyung.”

 

“Are you ‘right?”

 

“Yeah,” Jongdae nods. “I’ll be good after a stretch.”

 

“Amber will be in there to help translate,” Yifan informs. “Zitao has some Korean too so you won’t have to worry about miscommunication.”

 

Jongdae is twisting his body to loosen all the stiff muscles, “Zitao?”

 

“He’s got some experience in Nephrology…” Yifan trails off.

 

Jongdae closes the door and follows through. It’s not the best facility but they’ll have to do with it. It is rather short notice and hospitals are expected to have a better setting so he shouldn’t be comparing. Besides that, this should be kept as low key as possible. Yifan pulls him through the endless doors and introduces him to the team. There’s Qian as the anaesthesiologist, Zhoumi as the operating nurse and finally Zitao to assist and watch over them.

 

Jongdae scrubs up, cleaning his hands and arms thoroughly before he walks through the door to the surgery room. He never thought that it will feel so uncomfortable working in a place that’s outside of his home and usual turf but there’s a first for everything. He does his best though to get comfortable and treats it just like a hospital setting. Jongdae takes a few deep breathes, eyes closed and then opened with a new determination.

 

He takes the scalpel in hand and begins with deep concentration. Throughout the process, Qian and Zhoumi send Amber words to give him feedback to the vitals that helps him to determine a pathway. It becomes easy with how flexible Zitao is. The man’s definitely got more experience than nephrology but Jongdae isn’t going to be picky about it. He knew that Yifan had gathered capable people for this operation, but he can see Zitao being more than just an assistant. The man’s been well trained over all.

 

Jongdae follows through with everything that he’s learned and removes the organs. Zitao replaces the kidney and Jongdae is back to tie it all together. Once he’s sewed the patient up, Qian and Zhoumi do another check and turn off the timing machine as Jongdae deems the operation complete and successful. He sighs in relief and takes a step back, placing the items back onto the metal try and then nodding in approval with the staff, leaving them with the final task of moving the patient out.

 

Jongdae exits outside first, peeling gloves away and undressing from the gown. Jongdae pulls the mask and finally breathes. He takes careful steps out of the operation room and slumps on one of the spare chairs. He’s glad that that’s over. He’d been more nervous than he’d originally thought—it’s been a while since he’d done such a large scale operation. This one had been important too.

 

“Good work,” Zitao says in passing. He’s wheeling the patient out with Qian and Zhoumi following to check for stable vitals. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

He bows his head lightly, “Good work to you too.”

 

Jongdae knows that he couldn’t have done it so smoothly without them, so he thanks them sincerely. He drops his head in relief and closes his eyes for a moment to clear his head. Shortly after, Yifan settles down next to him and pats his back gently. There’s a smile in his voice so Jongdae doesn’t need to look up to see his approval.

 

“Thanks,” Yifan is offering another one of those gummy smiles.

 

Jongdae nods. “Zitao will be capable of dealing with anything that should happen but I can stay if you’re uncertain.”

 

“Will you?” Yifan questions, gentle as needed.

 

“It’s no problem,” Jongdae assures.

 

He gets up to follow Yifan to the room that they’ve rolled the patient into and he reads the machines again just to make sure things are still okay. The things in her file flash in his mind again as he looks at her pliant sleeping body. It’ll hurt when she wakes up but Yifan will probably have that covered with some sort of pain killer that Jongdae doesn’t need to worry about. He pulls a chair towards the bed and sits in wait, just to watch over her since there isn’t anything else that he can do.

 

* * *

Jongdae crashes as soon as he gets home and wakes up at noon, surprisingly still tired from sitting for three hours on a plane and doing absolutely nothing at all. He checks his phone first and is glad to find a message from Yifan assuring him that everything has worked out. It makes his day and Jongdae’s in a good mood enough to actually go and visit the café without any intentions of bullying Luhan.

 

He gets ready and goes without breakfast to have a late brunch at the café. Minseok will prepare something nice so he’ll leave room to enjoy it. Jongdae is in the mood to be pampered for his hard work. However, his cheer is dampened before he even gets a moment to savour it. The moment that he spots Chanyeol in Sunghwa-Dong, he feels the happiness crumbling away at his feet. This area is nothing to Chanyeol and he usually has capable people working in his place but now, he’s showing up more often and with one too many injuries.

 

“Oi, doc!” Chanyeol chases with a limp, “Are you really going to ignore a patient?”

 

Jongdae turns his head, glances at Chanyeol’s body from top to bottom carefully and deems his little limp not enough of a problem. For something like a twisted ankle, a normal doctor will suffice. He needn’t come find Jongdae personally and bring them both trouble. He ignores Chanyeol and takes a quick turn into the café for refuge, hoping that he’s lost Chanyeol. He fails, given that Chanyeol’s legs are much, much longer than his, even with the limp.

 

“Caramel please, hyung,” Jongdae orders and takes a seat. “And your brunch special.”

 

“Gotcha,” Minseok calls back.

 

The bell jingles with Chanyeol’s entrance and he invites himself to sit in the chair opposite to Jongdae. Jongdae eyes him but makes no move to get up and leave. He’d scored this seat first and no one is going to make him move. So instead of paying attention like Chanyeol wants, Jongdae picks up the newspaper and holds it open, covering everything but his tiny little fingers.

 

“And your friend, Jongdae?”

 

Jongdae’s brow twitches in irritation, and so he kicks Chanyeol’s feet lightly, “What do—”

 

“Ow!” Chanyeol exclaims, yanking his feet away. “That’s mean!”

 

“Sorry,” Jongdae mutters, upon noticing his mistake. He lowers the newspaper begrudgingly. “Tell hyung what you want.”

 

Chanyeol orders something bitter as he rubs on his ankle carefully. There’s a permanent pout on his lips for the pain and it makes Jongdae feel guiltier than it should. In the end, Jongdae sighs and gets out of his seat, shocking Chanyeol onto his feet, ready to react just in case Jongdae plans to ditch him. However, Jongdae isn’t moving to another seat. He just puts a hand onto Chanyeol’s knee and pulls his leg back down to the ground.

 

“Keep still,” Jongdae reprimands. “You’re just like a child.”

 

Chanyeol stills with great will. He’s never been one to stay in one place or position for long. It’s hard for him not to move about, but he’s got Jongdae’s attention, so he’s going to try his best. Jongdae pulls off his shoe and then sock, setting them down neatly before he puts a hand on Chanyeol’s ankle and presses. The touch is cool but there’s a heat coiling around the wound that makes him yelp in pain.

 

“Can’t you be gentle, doc?” Chanyeol whines, fists turning white in an attempt to keep his feet still—he could have kicked the doctor reflexively.

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes dismissively and moves Chanyeol’s feet, asking if it hurts. Chanyeol answers with a bit of pain when Jongdae presses against the skin below the bone but it is overall fine. Jongdae examines carefully though, twirling to the right and then to the left just to gauge the damage. It doesn’t look like he’ll need a scan to check for a broken bone, but he’ll have to be careful anyway.

 

“You’ve pulled a ligament,” Jongdae states with a sigh. “No strenuous activity for a few weeks.”

 

“What,” Chanyeol barks.

 

Jongdae settles his foot back down and then locks his fingers together, mimicking a prayer like posture. “You’ve stretched the ligament, like this,” he says, unfolding his fingers but keeping them in between each other to display the stretch. “It’ll take some time to heal so you shouldn’t aggravate it. Got it?”

 

Chanyeol looks down at his ankle and turns it in the way that he knows hurts. Now, that he knows the extent of the damage, he can also feel it in action. It’s actually rather fascinating and Chanyeol tries again only to wince. The stretch is painful and he has to stop after the third attempt.

 

Jongdae shoots him a glare, “Stop it. Don’t massage any medicated oil either, it’ll swell.”

 

“Alright,” Chanyeol grins, but he’s determined to try it again anyway.

 

“Hyung, I’m going into the kitchen,” Jongdae announces and strides right through to wash his hands.

 

When Jongdae gets back, his chai is sitting on the table just in front of Luhan. He wants to turn and run away but Luhan grins at him waving brightly. If he didn’t care for Luhan even in the slightest, he’d make his run, but having threats on those that he considers friends are not going to happen on his watch.

 

Jongdae makes his way over, picks up his chai and moves onto another table—staying close should be good enough. As expected, Chanyeol follows with a pout on his lips. He grumbles about being abandoned and Jongdae sighs but doesn’t refute. Jongdae’s too tired to bite back. It’s a familiar action though; one that he usually reserves for those that he cares much. Luhan catches on and smirks. Luhan pulls his chair over and leans into Jongdae’s personal space.

 

“What the hell,” Luhan hisses, twisting knots into Jongdae’s shirt. “Did Kyungsoo _dump_ you?”

 

Jongdae turns and shoots the meanest glare he can muster. Luhan doesn’t shut up.

 

“Oh my god,” Luhan squeals. “You picked a good looking one.”

 

Minseok comes to set brunch down and Jongdae pleads with him through a known look. Minseok nods, passing over the cutlery and then dragging Luhan away by the ear, reprimanding him about work as they go. Jongdae gets half a sigh of relief out when Luhan’s sweet voice comes back to haunt him—loud and clear.

 

“Hey, what’s your name?”

 

Chanyeol grins from ear to ear, “Chanyeol! It’s very nice to meet you.”

 

Jongdae drops his knife and fork to rub at his aching temple. It’s not going to be good. His love life (outside of the assumed Kyungsoo) is going to be a hot topic for months—just because Luhan has an overactive imagination. Distracted, he fails to realise that Chanyeol has picked up his cutlery and is nipping at his brunch. Jongdae scrunches his brows together when he notices and lifts his eyes to glare, hands held out for the sliver items.

 

Chanyeol blinks at him innocently, “Hm?”

 

“Give it back,” Jongdae states. He’s very possessive of the things given to him—especially food. “Hyung made that for me.”

 

Chanyeol forks a piece of bread with some egg and shoves it at Jongdae’s face with a large, lopsided grin, “Say ‘ah’ then.”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh?” Chanyeol frowns, looking at brunch pitifully and then shoving it into his mouth. “I’ll have it then.”

 

Jongdae’s brows twitch in irritation and he raises his voice, which just makes Chanyeol laugh, as he continues to shove Jongdae’s bunch into his mouth. They end up bantering back and forth, neither of them willing to accept defeat. Jongdae attempts to steal the cutlery back but Chanyeol’s reflexes are too fast. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Jongdae folds his arms and pouts.

 

“That’s not going to work,” Chanyeol says, forking some more food. “Say ‘ah’.”

 

Jongdae blows a raspberry and then glares, “Ah.”

 

Chanyeol chuckles and feed him, gleefully. “It’s good isn’t it?”

 

“I know that already,” Jongdae mutters.

 

“Again,” Chanyeol offers. “Ah.”

 

This time, Jongdae just opens his mouth and Chanyeol feeds him without much of a fuss. Once the food is secured, Jongdae turns his head a little and bites down hard on Chanyeol’s hand, causing him to drop the cutlery. The silver hits the plate with clatter and Jongdae is quick to pull the plate towards himself, laughing as Chanyeol rubs the wound with a pout on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for any medical inaccuracies. I did some brief research, but that's never enough. And do forgive any remaining errors!


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as Jongdae returns from the morning first aid classes—the early weekend class for adults, he’s in glee. A pair of sneakers sits nearly at the foyer and there’s the aroma of food floating from his kitchen into the rest of his home. Jongdae’s lips curl immediately and he skips through the hall like a rewarded child. It is going to be a better meal than what he usually makes with laziness.

 

“Kyungsoo!” Jongdae exclaims, “What’s up?”

 

“That’s what I’m saying,” Kyungsoo replies as he continues to stir fry.

 

Jongdae cocks his head in confusion but Kyungsoo gestures to the groceries, indicating that Jongdae needs to put them away. He does just that, grabbing the items out of the eco-bags and then placing them where he’s used to having them. Once everything is in place, Kyungsoo is also done and lunch is plated up.

 

“So, what brings you here?” Jongdae asks.

 

It’s not like he’s upset at Kyungsoo’s unannounced visit, it’s just extremely rare so he’s caught off guard. Kyungsoo has full time hours at the clinic and the weekends are his getaway. Most of the time that the weekend comes around, Kyungsoo has had enough of people and thus goes into hiding. He doesn’t want to see them and that includes Jongdae. Jongdae can understand that, because there are some people he’d rather not see after seeing them so much.

 

Kyungsoo pushes the bowl of rice over, taps it, beckoning Jongdae to eat. He starts on the food himself and nibbles slowly, waiting for Jongdae to dig in as well. He’s not really out to kill, just to shock, so once Jongdae has swallowed, he’s ready to attack. Luhan has provided some interesting information that he cannot pass up.

 

“Luhan hyung said something about a boyfriend.” Kyungsoo hums.

 

Jongdae looks up from his bowl of soup and laughs, “What? No way.”

 

Kyungsoo pulls his lips upwards. It’s so like Jongdae to deny. “Chanyeol… was it?”

 

Jongdae promptly chokes on his food—Kyungsoo did that on purpose! “I only have eyes for you baby.”

 

“Hm? Tall, broad shoulders and a nice smile,” Kyungsoo lists, just as Luhan had. “And gentlemanly. I heard he paid for your meal.”

 

Jongdae snorts, shoving more food into his mouth at the thought. Kyungsoo’s food is a definite no-no, even if the man isn’t here to steal it. “That’s because he ate half of it!”

 

“So he exists,” Kyungsoo grins triumphantly.

 

Jongdae freezes and then turns robotically to beg for forgiveness. “But he’s not my boyfriend.”

 

Jongdae jumps up from his seat and latches onto Kyungsoo, tightly not to be thrown away. Kyungsoo lifts his arms up and looks down at Jongdae’s pleading expression for a moment before he flicks his forehead—hard. Jongdae pulls away with a yelp, hand jumping up to rub at his wound.

 

“Luhan hyung is just mean! He was asking me if you’d _finally_ dumped me!” Jongdae whines, latching himself again.

 

Kyungsoo peels Jongdae away with great force and pushes him back into his seat for lunch, “That’s because you’re always mean to him.”

 

“He’s fun to tease,” Jongdae pouts.

 

“He’d say the same about you,” Kyungsoo points out. “Now eat.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anymore as they eat. He doesn’t really care if Jongdae’s seeing someone or not—it’s just a matter of whether that person is worthy. Though that isn’t to say that he will not be missing all the affection that Jongdae showers him with, regardless of his often listless responses. They are best friends and a small part of him always wants to have some of Jongdae’s affection.

 

After lunch, Jongdae keeps Kyungsoo. The younger makes himself at home as Jongdae does the dishes and when everything around the house is tidy again, they settle down on the couch for a some good pass time. The two converse briefly—nothing like they did in college because there’s rarely anything to gossip about these days and then settle for a movie marathon.

 

“What genre do you want to watch?” Jongdae grins.

 

Kyungsoo shoots him a look, “You first.”

 

“Horror, of course.”

 

Kyungsoo grunts. He knew it’d be that one. “Action then.”

 

“Okay,” Jongdae agrees, readying his hands for few good rounds of rock paper and scissors. “If you win, we’ll run horrors and if I win, we’ll run actions, cool?”

 

“Isn’t it always like this?” Kyungsoo snorts but balls his hand into a fist anyway.

 

Jongdae likes to play reverse and Kyungsoo is determined to lose. They hold out fists between their chests and shake them to three counts, ending the first round with a draw on rocks. They know each other well enough now not to worry about the first round—it always ends the same. They also know the usual pattern but it is still unnerving. They end on another draw of rocks, because they’ve spent too much time thinking of the possibilities, even when there are only three choices.

 

“Are you sticking to your policy of men and rocks?”

 

Jongdae grins, “I suppose, for now.”

 

Round three is another tie on rocks. Kyungsoo groans and they throw their fists a few more times, ending with draws on a few different hands. Kyungsoo snorts and picks up the pace, counting faster and pushing their thoughts out of the way. The only thing left is a reaction when the third syllable escapes his lips and then, the forth from Jongdae.

 

“Yes!” Jongdae cheers, throwing one fist into the air.

 

Kyungsoo looks down at their playing hands and groans. In the end, Jongdae had stuck it out with a rock. He curses under his breath and curls into the couch, grabbing the pillows and squishing them, against his body. Horrors are okay—they’re not really his favourite because it’s an excuse for Jongdae to cling.

 

“You don’t have to be home tonight, do you?”

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. He’d planned to sleep over and will stick to the plan now that they’re running movies. He won’t go home in the dark after watching a dozen of horror movies. He’d be too paranoid to do so alone. Jongdae will offer to walk him if needed but then, it’d the fear would come in reverse. Kyungsoo wouldn’t be able to send Jongdae back home alone.

 

Jongdae sets the machine up and connects his portable USB to the television and rummages through his playlists to find the horror file. He starts it randomly and then returns with snacks as he curls in, next to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo shifts all the way to the other end of the couch and Jongdae follows consistently. He doesn’t know why he even tries anymore.

 

Two movies in and Kyungsoo is drifting off. The warmth inside the apartment has been making him sleepy but now that there’s no more light filtering through the fluttering curtains, it is much easier to just succumb. Half way through the third, Kyungsoo rests his head on Jongdae’s shoulder and then sleeps peacefully. Jongdae laughs a little and turns the volume down, but continues to watch through lazy eyes.

 

The company is good but he’s dozing off too and losing bits and pieces of the plot. Jongdae makes a note to review the movie again and closes his eyes, leaning back against Kyungsoo. His moment of rest does not last long though. His work phone vibrates on the table and Jongdae reaches over to catch the call before it wakes Kyungsoo. It’s hard work to get his best friend to sleep over and Jongdae doesn’t want to ruin that. He likes the company that is extended to him, because the nature of his work does not allow him to freely offer it. If people stay, Jongdae can come and go easily, but if he stays over at their place, it’s hard to go and return as if nothing had happened.

 

“Hey… okay,” Jongdae answers with a heavy sigh. “Breathe, alright? Yeah, I’m in, I’ll be right there.”

 

He hangs up the phone and slips it back onto the table quietly, before pulling himself away from Kyungsoo’s warmth. Jongdae settles Kyungsoo against the armrest of the couch and tosses a jacket over his body to keep him warm before jumping towards his door. He opens the door and lets Chanyeol in, checking briefly for eyes. There’s nothing that he can see, but the first priority should be Chanyeol. Once he’s secured the lock, he walks back in into to bump into Chanyeol’s board back.

 

“Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol is frozen, too shocked to scream or appreciate the way his name rolls off the doctor’s tongue. He squeaks, just as his foot does when Jongdae tries to push him further in. “H-hey, there’s a ghost in your place…”

 

Jongdae tilts his head over and looks at the screen on the television. “It’s not—we’re watching a movie. C’mon.”

 

He pushes Chanyeol through the halls of his place and into the same room as last time. Chanyeol staggers, eyes darting around the dark apartment warily. He’s not a fan of scary movies or ghosts and the like. His grandmother had been fond of telling them when he was younger to keep him in line but they have stuck. They scare him much more than life underground do and it’s not really nice that he’s here for aid only to be greeted with a potential heart attack trigger.

 

“I need a stitch,” Chanyeol confesses, pointing to his shoulder, where his shirt is soaked in red.

 

Jongdae winces and waves him further in. It looks to be a sharp blow but he’s not sure at this point how deep. He’s got a hell of a lot of questions. It seems like Chanyeol is new to the area and is out causing a lot of people. Jongdae’s got his regulars but this is just something else altogether. However, he doesn’t scold. It’s not his place to do so. Chanyeol should know already—or maybe he needs to learn the lesson again.

 

Instead, he sinks himself into the deepest level of concentration that he can. Jongdae doesn’t like administering skin stiches. It is his least favourite task of the whole because it makes him queasy all over again. Jongdae sterilises the needle manually and lets it sit for a moment as he cleans the excess blood off Chanyeol’s shoulder. Jongdae sighs as he threads the needle and then pierces it through skin to close up the wound.

 

Chanyeol doesn’t wince at this and Jongdae’s glad that he’s not whining. Some people, who come to him for first aid cannot take the pain and it’s a disturbance. Instead, Chanyeol seems amused by Jongdae’s proximity and level of concentration.

 

“Like what you see?”

 

Jongdae tugs at the wound with the needle, pulling for a straight stitch, “I only like naked bodies when I’m cutting them open.”

 

Chanyeol winces. “No exceptions?”

 

“No exceptions.”

 

He doesn’t bother teasing with someone else’s name. Jongdae doesn’t want to endanger those that he actually cares about. Besides, he’s not even telling the truth so there’s no logic in harming another person when creating a net of safety.

 

“Aw,” Chanyeol whines quietly, poking at Jongdae just because he can.

 

Jongdae shoots a glare, about to reprimand when the door creaks open. It’s eerie for Chanyeol who’s just seen the face of a ghost enlarged but Jongdae freezes up with fear for another reason. He turns his head around in jerky movements, explanations exploding one after another in his brain. He’s got a naked Chanyeol on a bed—there’s no way out of this, especially with the things that Luhan has already said.

 

“You’re cheating,” Kyungsoo states, a playful spin on his tone.

 

“No!” Jongdae jumps.

 

“I’m going home,” Kyungsoo decides with a sigh.

 

He doesn’t want to, but he’d best not interrupt Jongdae’s quality time with his boyfriend. They can talk about it later, but for now, he will tease.

 

“Wait, sweetheart!” Jongdae cries—old habits die hard—he’s always called Kyungsoo by cute nicknames to stress the point of their closeness. “Soo!”

 

Jongdae pulls the needle along with him and Chanyeol yelps in pain, free and healthy arm running to grab onto Jongdae tightly before his wound tears. They both end up wincing from the stretch and the grip. However, it gets Jongdae to stop in his track and pay proper attention again. Just looking at the oozing blood makes him feel incompetent for being the one causing it.

 

“Sorry,” Jongdae mumbles.

 

Chanyeol’s head spins. “I haven’t heard a bad review about you… but I might have to give you the first. You’re not always this distracted are you?”

 

Jongdae juts his lips in a pout that Chanyeol just wants to kiss away.

 

“You can chase after him, you know?” Chanyeol offers instead, “I’ll be fine with half a stitch… maybe.”

 

Jongdae heaves a sigh and starts again, without an answer. He finishes it off neatly and then seals it with a clear strip of dressing as well. In Chanyeol’s nature of work, adding on a dressing is probably for the best. Infections, should be avoided where possible and Jongdae’s going to do the work that’s worth his pay.

 

* * *

Jongdae receives a flood of text messages that clogs up his inbox and less work than ever. He’s glad that no one’s getting hurt but it’s just lonely and then lonelier with Chanyeol’s text contents being advice on how to win Kyungsoo’s heart back. Jongdae doesn’t know what to make of it, but it is kind of entertaining to read. The advice that Chanyeol gives starts sweet and ends cheesy.

 

When a spam of another ten text messages come in, Jongdae slams his head on the table and finally picks up the phone to reply. He types up a lengthy message filled with more curses than explanations and is about to send it before he exhausts himself hitting the back button. There’s no need to waste so many words on Chanyeol.

 

 _Shut up_ he texts first, followed by _we’re not dating_ and then a third _he’s my best friend_.

 

There’s silence until another text comes in. Jongdae is just about ready to pull out all of his hair when he finds that it is an unknown number.

 

_I don’t know what you said to shut him up, but thank you._

 

Jongdae raises a brow at this but it makes sense. The messages have stopped coming in and whoever else that Chanyeol is whining to is pleased as well. That’s two birds with one stone. Both sides can now go on with their lives without interruptions. Jongdae almost kisses his phone, hoping that his gratitude is conveyed, but he pockets it and grabs a jacket to head out. He’ll end the day with another visit to the convenience store nearby to pick up his usual carton of banana milk.

 

In just a few minutes, Jongdae makes it to the nearby convenience store and says a casual greeting to the staff behind the counter. He strolls through, walks around and grabs everything he needs in order. He doesn’t even look properly, just reaches out and grabs everything to put into the basket. After a round, he’s ready to check out but remembers about the broken light bulb and heads back around to pick up a few spares.

 

He turns back around after a quick check of his basket and walks to the counter. He lines up after one person and then comes forward as he is called. The familiar boy on shift puts all of his items through and settles them into the bag neatly, before billing him the price. Jongdae pulls out a few notes and hands it over. The boy hands over the bag but doesn’t let go. Jongdae looks up, eyes questioning. For once, the boy doesn’t look as sleepy as he usual does. In fact, he may even be _alert_. Jongdae keeps his hands firmly on the handle of the bag—he’d paid for those damn it—and raises a brow.

 

“You should be careful.”

 

Jongdae stops, eyes widening. It’s not a warning that he hasn’t heard of before. To be honest, Jongdae’s not always safe—there have been a few assault attempts that he’s managed to escape. There’s bound to be a day when he won’t but he will deal with it when it comes. For now, he’ll be careful of his surroundings and the people he interacts. He takes two steps back and looks over the sleepy clerk again, scanning him and then his name tag.

 

“Jongin,” he enunciates carefully. “Don’t worry about the sales quota for the banana milk, hm?”

 

* * *

Jongdae stretches as he gets out of the car and locks the doors. People shoot him odd looks and Jongdae returns it in form of priceless smiles instead. So his car is a little shabby and not fit for this road, what gives? Jongdae isn’t a racer. He’s a poor driver and he knows absolutely nothing about the so called specs of the machine. He is however, here for the racers.

 

“Hey, Jun—Suho hyung.”

 

Jongdae mentally corrects himself. It’s Suho when they speak publically and not Junmyeon. The crowds are here for the race, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not a policing audience. They have to be careful of many things even though Jongdae isn’t one hundred percent certain on how everything works. He’d rather stay out of the deeper things and has never sought to find out. Jongdae drops his kit to his feet and offers Junmyeon a brief hug as a greeting.

 

“Must be a big match,” Jongdae comments, eyes overlooking the last part of the drive course. “You’ve called me in today to be your _personal_ emergency staff.”

 

Junmyeon laughs. “Kai’s good, but he’s still a kid, so he’s reckless.”

 

Jongdae nods in agreement and runs his eyes across the crowd again. He’s used to being on race tracks and used Junmyeon who is a surprisingly nice person. He’s always called Jongdae on site for races and gets him to tend to _all_ wounds, even if they’re not members of his. Jongdae does it for the easy money but Kai must be a treasure.

 

Jongdae zones out while Junmyeon stands by at the end of the track and watches with great concentration and understanding. Jongdae doesn’t ask for details or information and just fiddles as he watches the empty road. The organisers are communicating though, with walkie talkies, informing the crowd nearby each station of how the race is turning out.

 

It’s not a long event. There are cheers roaring through the walkie talkie every time they pass a check point. The updates don’t give Jongdae much and he ends up yawning out of boredom until they cars turn around to the final check point with screeches of the worn ties. The race ends with a close tie—both cars skidding into against other and pushing against the rail. Jongdae can only be grateful that the metal is new and not yet corroded.

 

“That fool!”

 

Junmyeon rushes to the car that Jongdae assumes is, Kai’s first and pulls his participant out. Jongdae follows soon but is told that everything is okay. There’s no injuries and he’s glad for it too. He nods his understanding and moves onto the next. Out of the other car, Sehun is pulled with a wound on his forehead; a shard of broken glass had cut deep.

 

“Sehun?”

 

The kid’s eyes widen and he sputters while pointing. “You… what—”

 

Jongdae sighs heavily as he moves Sehun into an open space and sits him down. Sehun hisses when Jongdae pours the solution over his wound and grips tightly onto the doctor’s arms, hard enough to bruise. He catches sight of a smirking sigh and attempts to get up but Jongdae pushes him back down with a glare.

 

“Sit straight,” Jongdae commands, pressing hands to the wound for pressure. “Does Chanyeol even—you’re still a kid for god’s sake.”

 

“It was an important race,” Sehun mumbles before jerking. “I’m not a kid!”

 

“No more important than your life,” Jongdae snaps. “God, you’re just as reckless as Kai is.”

 

“You know Kai?”

 

Jongdae raises an eyebrow—is it that surprisingly? “No, I know Suho. He’s a regular.”

 

He wipes Sehun’s forehead clean and then patches it up carefully. Once Sehun is stable, he makes the boy take a large gulp of water before he sends him off. Sehun squirms uncomfortably the whole time, like he doesn’t want to be indebted, but having had Chanyeol over his place more than anyone else, Jongdae’s sure they can be over that.

 

“Don’t worry about the fee,” Jongdae answers. “It’s already been covered by Suho.”

 

“Are you working for him?” Sehun asks frowning—that’s not going to sit well with Chanyeol at all.

 

His boss is quite fond of Jongdae, despite the disinterest that he’s been shown. There’s no way that Chanyeol will spend so much time pestering his subordinates for advice otherwise. Just thinking about it, has Sehun’s head throbbing even more than before.

 

Jongdae tilts his head, enquiring a definition for his question.

 

“Like, are you one of Suho’s men?” Sehun grumbles.

 

Jongdae laughs, “Do you think I’d be working on you then?”

 

“I don’t know,” Sehun shoots back. “Suho’s _weird_.”

 

Jongdae chuckles again and seals the wound. That’s about the right description for a man with the name _guardian angel_ in this line of work. He pulls Sehun up and checks once again through careful glances for any extra wounds.

 

“Do you need to be driven back?” Jongdae asks, “Your call will be pulled over if you drive tonight.”

 

Sehun groans as he looks at his car. “If it’s no trouble…”

 

Chanyeol’s going to murder him with the bright laughter and at this point, he thinks that only Jongdae can save him. Sehun talks to a teammate and then follows Jongdae towards the car. Jongdae acts on instincts the moment that Sehun enters the car. He leans towards Sehun and pulls the belt to lock it.

 

“Woah,” Sehun leans back against the seat.

 

“I don’t have money to spare to pay fines for kids who don’t use their seat belts properly,” Jongdae explains. Sehun shoots him a look, lips pouted. Jongdae flicks his forehead. “Address.”

 

Sehun grabs hold of the GPS device and punches the address that he needs to get to in and sets it back so that Jongdae can see it too. Once Jongdae scans it, he starts the engine and sets off. The rest of the ride is silent until Sehun decides that he cannot stand it and puts the radio on.

 

“Give me your number,” Jongdae says, once he’s parked carefully.

 

Sehun raises a brow, “Why?”

 

“Your boss keeps calling me for nonsense,” Jongdae answers slowly. “I don’t want him to become the boy to cried wolf, okay? So you call me on your number when something happens and I’ll come running.”

 

Sehun grabs the phone and punches his number in, “Running?”

 

“Figure of speech, brat.”

 

Sehun pokes his tongue out childishly and turns towards the door, completely ready to get out and go home to sleep. Jongdae unlocks it but Sehun’s recoiling back and begging him to lock it again. When he looks over, he notices a glaring figure over his car and shrieks, demanding that Jongdae lock the door again and securely. Jongdae acts instinctively and locks all the doors, for fear of an attack and they both sigh in relief

 

“Yah,” Chanyeol knocks on the window and peers inside. “It’s me.”

 

“What the?” Jongdae frowns. “It was just your boss.”

 

“Not just,” Sehun hisses at him discreetly, “Did you not see his eyes just now?!”

 

“Aren’t you going to get out Sehun?” Chanyeol questions, lips pulled wide, but he’s not really smiling.

 

Sehun shivers and follows the order immediately. He doesn’t need to be a victim. He scrambles out of the car quickly and disappears, leaving Jongdae to deal with the wrath.

 

“There was a bit of an accident,” Jongdae tries for a smile. “I ran into Sehun so I thought I’d give him a ride back.”

 

“Even so,” Chanyeol frowns deeply. “Anyway—you better get going. If you stick around, you’ll get into trouble, especially since… you’re a freelancer, right?”

 

Jongdae nods.

 

“Yeah, well,” Chanyeol curses Sehun under his breath, “If you ever feel like your life is… give me a call.”

 

Jongdae laughs. He will not rely on Chanyeol because it won’t be his fault. “Thanks, but I’m the expert here, no?”

 

Chanyeol pulls a face, “That’s not what—”

 

“Goodnight,” Jongdae cuts in. “Let’s not see each other for a while, hm?”

 

“Hey—”

 

Jongdae laughs and reverses.


	5. Chapter 5

It is one of those rare days where he kindly visits Minseok and Luhan’s café with nicer intentions than usual. There’s no snark in his greeting and it catches Luhan by surprise every time. It’s more like purposeful kindness just so that Luhan doesn’t poison Kyungsoo’s food but the café owner doesn’t need to know that. Jongdae still needs to tease from time to time for his own entertainment.

 

This time, he walks through the doors and orders a peppermint skinny soy chai with a grin. Luhan groans with distaste but puts the order through and Jongdae adds the bagel to the package. Kyungsoo’s not too fond of English breakfasts but sometimes it’s okay to pass the boundary. Jongdae takes it upon himself to bestow his best friend with variety in his rigid routine.

 

Unfortunately, as he waits, a familiar face and voice shows up to ruin a part of his morning. Jongdae instinctively hides in a corner, catches Minseok’s eyes and pleads silently. He’s glad that Luhan is busy or Luhan and the new customer will both be out for his ass. Minseok is kind though, shuffles through to pass Jongdae his order and helps him out by distracting Luhan and—

 

“Baekhyun!”

 

Yeah, that _devilish_ kid.

 

Jongdae gives Minseok one last thankful look before he flees completely to the safety of Kyungsoo’s clinic. He knows the place inside and out—has the blueprint map engraved and has an escape route for every vicious encounter. Even Kyungsoo won’t be able to stop him if it came down to it. He runs all the way to the clinic with haste but today, Jongdae doesn’t have to wait. He’s fifteen minutes early but the door opens and a young looking lady pokes her head out with a wide grin. She’s waving him in happily with a pleasant greeting on her lips.

 

“Good morning, Jongdae.”

 

“Good morning Sooyeon nuna,” Jongdae greets back with a wide smile—the one that tells her he likes her much more than Soojung. But that’s only because she’s kind enough not to let him wait in the cold. Or maybe, he’s just ignoring the fact that she enjoys his torment of Kyungsoo.

 

Jongdae waltzes through the clinic and Sooyeon snickers but doesn’t say anything. He finds his way towards Kyungsoo’s door casually and makes himself right at home. Kyungsoo looks up from his stack of papers and eyes the brown bag carefully.

 

His first words are a threat. “If it’s a croissant, I’m kicking you out.”

 

“It’s a bagel,” Jongdae grins, settling down easily.

 

Kyungsoo gives him a nod of approval and then picks up the paper bag. He debates the new information before shrugging and going with it, “Baekhyun’s getting married.”

 

Jongdae isn’t even surprised, “So he finally said yes?”

 

He doesn’t say that he’s just run away from said man. That’s just asking for trouble. Kyungsoo will love and adore him but he will not tolerate elusive behaviour. He can no longer be with Baekhyun without Kyungsoo because there will be no one there to save him from that man’s vicious mouth and caring heart. He doesn’t know how to face someone who cares so much, fought so hard for him even though he had given up and moved on first.

 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nods.

 

They both know their friend well enough to make a certain prediction of this. Baekhyun appears confident but is always second guessing himself, feeling like he’s not enough. He’s a little different from Kyungsoo who’s happy to be and Jongdae, who has always proved something by standing on top.

 

Kyungsoo replies with a stern seriousness, “You’re right. Anyway, to _save the trees_ —”

 

Jongdae cackles into his hands.

 

Kyungsoo shoots a glare, “You’re my plus one.”

 

Jongdae lunges right at Kyungsoo and loops him into a tight hug. He’s in need of human affection and Kyungsoo is the only one that he trusts to give it. “I’m always willing to be your plus one sweetheart.”

 

Kyungsoo pats him back without a fight today, but only because he’s got something cruel to say. Jongdae curls into him, lips pulling up pleasantly as he hums in consent. Kyungsoo hugs tighter, hoping that his apology will also convey.

 

“Baekhyun also asked me when you’re coming back.”

 

Jongdae stiffens immediately; all air of playful disappearing in the air. “And…?”

 

“That’s _your_ problem to deal with,” Kyungsoo replies—though he really does want to intervene. He doesn’t even like it that he’d have to stoop so low to get Jongdae off of his game and into seriousness. “But I think you should get onto it soon.”

 

“Eh,” Jongdae shrugs, pulling away.

 

He’s almost curling into his cacoon and that’s not a good place to go. It had been hard to deal with in the first three months and though Kyungsoo would always reach out, that’s a low that Jongdae shouldn’t go to again. He sighs and then quickly changes the topic.

 

“And? How’d that kidney transplant patient go?” Kyungsoo asks.

 

“Uh, I think it went fine,” Jongdae replies, laughing awkwardly, “I was just consulted for some opinions, you know. Can’t actually operate, you know.”

 

Kyungsoo frowns at him. “Jongdae... you know, you can get over it, right?”

 

The thing is, Jongdae is over it. He’s no longer upset or resentful. It’s just that he doesn’t want to return to such a place. However, he cannot tell his friends that because it’d be difficult to keep them safe for knowing too much. And although, Kyungsoo may understand Baekhyun will not. Baekhyun has strong ideals that Jongdae knows he has no chances of evening out.

 

Jongdae waves a dismissive hand, “Anyway. How’s your work?”

 

Jongdae’s avoiding again.

 

“The usual,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

 

* * *

Jongin had given him with of those sleepy acknowledgements as he handed the bag over and Jongdae had smiled back in glee. There’s a rerun of an old drama on tonight and he’s determined to catch every minute of it. Jongdae rushes off with a wave and hopes that with his quick pace today, he’ll make it back just in time.

 

However, just one corner away from the convenience store, Jongdae feels a chill at his lower back. Even through the hoodie, he can hear the clinking of bullets and feel the cold metal. He stops in his steps and raises his hands slightly to show that he’s not planning to escape but not so high to attract attention from anyone else. He doesn’t know how this usually goes either, so minimal movement is probably the safest option.

 

“Lower your hands and keep your grip on the bags. Then walk, slowly or I’ll shoot.”

 

Jongdae does exactly as told.

 

“Do you think I can take my milk home first?” Jongdae says with as little cheer as possible. He saw the day coming, but it’s still a little surprising and exciting. “I don’t want it to go off, you know.”

 

“Don’t try anything funny.”

 

“Funny?” He raises his tone, with a small chuckle of disbelief. “No way. I’m unarmed and untrained.”

 

“I’m here to take you at all costs.”

 

“Right,” Jongdae replies, “And I’ll go without a fight if you’d kindly let me refrigerate my milk.”

 

The kid pauses—brows arches as thoughts of rebuttal roam his mind. Why does that make sense? He looks around himself and then gives in. He’d been told not to shoot the gun if it isn’t necessary. If Jongdae will go without a fuss, letting him do what he wants while watching carefully should be okay. Jongdae thanks him sincerely and walks cheerily home. They’ve probably been watching so it isn’t necessary to hide his home.

 

“Turn on the lights.”

 

“It’s broken,” Jongdae says. “I was planning to get it fixed.”

 

The man attempts it with a huff and then pushes Jongdae through the hall, jabbing the gun into the small of his back threateningly. Jongdae holds his hands out and takes slow careful steps. He doesn’t drop his carton of milk again because the dented carton from last time had tasted somewhat odd.

 

“Do you mind taking your shoes off?” Jongdae asks, with a whine—one that he _hopes_ will work.

 

“Why should—”

 

“ _Please_ ,” Jongdae pleads slowly, shuffling off his own shoes. “Landlady’s policy you know? She comes and checks often so—”

 

“Oh be quiet.”

 

Shoes are thrown off in succession before Jongdae is being jabbed to move forward again. Jongdae sets the plastic bags down onto the bench and moves slowly to sort out the items that he’d purchase. He decides that the milk will go last because it was the one that had saved him. Jongdae moves about slowly in the dark, to settle things quietly and once he’s closed the fridge, he slips away as the man is distracted.

 

Jongdae tip toes around the kitchen to find the stool that he’d positioned by the window. He climbs it with practice and pushes the window open wider than it already is. The stool is high enough and if Jongdae’s careful, he’ll be able to get away unscathed. However, just as he gets his head through the gap, Jongdae knocks it right against the ledge of the window, causing it to squeak as he tries to escape.

 

“The little shit!”

 

Jongdae jerks and falls right out after the gun is shot through the window. Glass shatters over his head and he gazes his hands against them as he tries to get to his feet. Jongdae clicks his tongue in annoyance but gets up and runs, with feet bare across the streets. However, before he gets very far, a van pulls up right in front of him and a knife comes into contact with the back of his neck.

 

“Fuck,” Jongdae curses, raising his heads.

 

“I told you not to try anything funny.”

 

“I don’t see you laughing though…” Jongdae mumbles dejectedly, scalpel still hidden between his fingers. He’d been a bit slow today.

 

“This brat!”

 

Jongdae gets a blow to the head that makes him dizzy and a little weak. He falls into arms and is dumped into the soft car seat. They toss him in the middle a little orientated and then tie his hands and throw a blindfold on. Jongdae’s sitting upright for the first five minutes that they drive around in circles so that he doesn’t figure out where they’re going, but before they even make around their normal course, he’s fast asleep.

 

* * *

Jongdae wakes up feeling pretty comfortable, despite what’s happened and where he’s supposed to be. This is actually the first time that he’s managed to get himself kidnapped. Twice, he’s avoided it. The first time was thanks to a fellow instructor at the school and the second, by Junmyeon, who’s still set on getting him to work together personally so that they can avoid as much harm as possible.

 

The bed that he’s settled on his infinitely soft—maybe too soft, because he’s sinking right into it. Jongdae attempts to get up but finds that he keeps drowning further in, especially when his limbs are rendered pretty immobile. In the end, he gives up on the fight and drops his body back down to stare at the empty ceiling above. A holiday’s not too bad and the bed will get comfortable with time.

 

“I heard you’re Phoenix’s favourite.”

 

Jongdae tilts his head. Who the hell is Phoenix? What kind of name is that? Can the guy fly or something? Breathe fire maybe? How is all this gang thing so confusing? He takes in the appearance of the boy—child maybe?—before him and feels laughter bubbling out of his chest. They’re young.

 

“You better get your facts right kid,” Jongdae laughs, “I’m _everyone’s_ favourite.”

 

And he’s not lying. Jongdae’s been told it enough times to actually believe it.

 

There’s an amused laughter and more faces to join in with the crowd. It’s starting to get confusing again so Jongdae frowns and closes his eyes. He’s really not up for this. There are too many people glaring at him right now and it brings back horrible memories of strict scrutiny. It’s a place that Jongdae never wants to go back to.

 

“Can you at least tell me what I’ve done to earn such a comfortable vacation?” Jongdae sighs heavily, eyes still tightly closed.

 

“You’ll know when he comes.”

 

Jongdae cracks an eye open when he hears the footsteps fading out. There’s only one person left and he’s also leaving, with those last words. Jongdae is still as confused as ever, but the focus comes back and he notices, that he’s free to move around within the constraints of this room. There’s nothing to do though.

 

The bed is comfortable and there’s a bathroom connected but nothing else. The room is set on a high floor—the fourth at least, from what Jongdae can gather when he looks out the window. Outside, there are guards standing around and talking casually, but they’ve got weapons tucked away. Jongdae’s not going to jump from this distance anyway. He backtracks into his room and looks around until he’s bored and hungry.

 

“Are you not going to feed me?” Jongdae yells at the door just to test waters.

 

His given answer is silence until hours later, when the moon is waning brightly. They shove food and water in on a tray. Jongdae’s locked in a room with his leg attached to a chain and it’s only long enough to allow him to all the corners of the room. They’re treating him rather nicely, it’s kind of creepy. Technically, he can eat, but he remembers Yifan’s warnings very clearly. He doesn’t want to be fucked up just because he’d been saving people.

 

* * *

Chanyeol finally finds some time to go and thank the doctor for looking after his subordinate during that race. Sehun had finally come clean and confessed about the car and he’d forgiven him at the mention of Jongdae’s name. He knew that Sehun was using Jongdae as an excuse to get out of trouble but he couldn’t say anything because it is a good excuse for him to visit.

 

He knocks on the door continuously but there’s no answer. The lights aren’t on and it’s very likely that the doctor is out on an errand but even after numerous calls, Jongdae doesn’t pick up. It’s funny because he _always_ picks up the first call. Chanyeol starts to worry, pacing about. Jongdae had given a very firm warning not to break in but worry nags at him. He calls again just to make sure.

 

Then he finally hears the ringing from the inside but still no one to answer. There’s no way that that’s possible though. Most of Jongdae’s work is obtained through his phone. Apologising mentally, he grabs the bobby pin and bending it to fit into the keyhole. After a few twists and turns, Chanyeol manages to click it open and he pushes through the door. It’s eerily silent and dark. The lights don’t turn on and the worry heightens.

 

Chanyeol makes his way through carefully as his eyes adjust to the light. He feels slightly threatened, so he’s on guard, not bothering to use his phone as a light source just to retain some level of safety. He steps through carefully and listens for any sounds and movements, but there isn’t anything, except for the sound of the wind whisking through.

 

When Chanyeol finally gets to the kitchen and the living room, he finds the window shattered and his heart falls. The glass pieces that are scattered haphazardly shine in the moonlight and from where he stands, he can see the mess of the kitchen in full view. There are plastic bags lying around and peaking from inside it, a receipt with three days ago printed on the transaction. Chanyeol’s fears double and he walks over carefully to peak out the window. There is more class and this time, they’re stained in wine.

 

Panic takes over and Chanyeol’s backtracking quickly. There’s no time to linger here when Jongdae’s been missing for days and no one has noticed. Chanyeol breathes to calm himself for the audience that he may encounter outside and then finally exits, locking the door from the inside. Just in time, Mrs. Seo is taking out the trash and offering him a wonderful smile.

 

“Oh!” She beams, “Are you visiting Jongdae? I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

 

“Oh, no, no, I was just retrieving something for him,” Chanyeol flashes an urgent smile. “He’s staying at my place temporarily.”

 

She tilts her head, confused.

 

“A baseball was thrown in and it broke the window. I’ve asked someone to come and repair it,” Chanyeol lies. “He doesn’t feel too safe with the window like that.”

 

“I see,” she grins. “Look after him then, okay?”

 

Chanyeol nods politely and then quickly excuses himself. He hops into the car and speeds, making the usual hour’s trip end in thirty minutes. However, before he even manages to gather his men for a discussion, Sehun has pulled him aside with a very serious look on his face. Chanyeol is irritated, but it could be important as well, so he bites on his tongue and urges Sehun to speak with a firm gaze.

 

“Um …” Sehun mumbles.

 

Chanyeol glares to straighten him up, “What? Make it quick.”

 

“You’ve got a letter,” Sehun replies quickly, shoving it into Chanyeol’s hand. “And…”

 

Chanyeol rips it open and stares for a long moment at the set of photos.

 

“That’s the doc…” Sehun fills in, shrinking backwards. “Isn’t it?”

 

“Fuck,” Chanyeol curses. “Gather everyone.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long it took to get this last chapter out. There is no excuse, but please enjoy it.

It’s a pretty luxurious week, Jongdae thinks. The breakfast menu could be better but Jongdae does actually know that he is a hostage. They haven’t hurt him but they are not all that accommodating unless they have work for him to do. Jongdae finds it curious that they’re asking for his service in such a manner but his complaints are always stopped short. They must be tight on money and holding a pretty thick grudge. Whoever the Phoenix they keep referring to is, Jongdae still hasn’t figured, but once he does, he’ll make sure to repay the favour in kind.

 

However, in the short week, Jongdae manages to settle pretty comfortably into a routine. He’s quite good at that. Since he cannot do anything about it, he’ll worry about it later—the part time job, rent and all. Every morning Jongdae gets up and ready to work to his bones, but it seems a change has occurred on the other party’s part. Instead of coming to free him today, breakfast is served and then there is silence, give for the person standing on guard.

 

“What, no more to save?”

 

“Can you like,” he replies, frustration evident in his tone, “Shut up, even for a second.”

 

It’s also become obvious that most of the people here don’t want to be left alone to deal with Jongdae. The dislike that both parties have for each other is the only thing that they have in common. However, because they need Jongdae’s work, they have to keep him alive. If not, they would have already dealt him death just to shut him up. Knowing this, Jongdae uses his voice specifically to rile them up. They are his current form of entertainment.

 

Jongdae keeps his mouth zip for exactly _one_ second before he opens it again, “Happ—”

 

Whoever it is that is on duty today shoves cloth into his mouth and then tapes it. Jongdae shoots him a purposefully dirty look, _what a douche bag_ but it gets him nowhere. Just like that, breakfast is cut short and Jongdae is left there, to stare in silence as he waits for a change to come. Eventually, they do come around to blindfold him and move him.

 

They’ve moved him to a darker place but it’s still within the residence. They don’t travel very far and Jongdae’s sure that something is up; he just wishes he knew so he can keep his mouth appropriately shut this time. Jongdae is pushed into a chair and then tied _again_. His hands and feet are already tied but now they’re attached to the chair and the rope burns as he tugs on it. Eventually, they allow him to take in his surroundings and his mouth, some much needed air. The first thing Jongdae does though is scowl. Sometimes, he really doesn’t know how to filter himself.

 

“Where’s my audience?”

 

“L,” Trust Jongdae to get himself silenced in a matter of seconds, “Gag the little shit.”

 

“L?” Jongdae tilts his head with a loud laughter, even though his dry throat hurts like hell. “Someone’s been watching too much Death—”

 

He expects the punch to the gut _once_ , but not _twice_. Jongdae groans deeply in his throat and throws a glare. They decide to gag him and pull a tight string of cotton across his mouth. Jongdae fixes his breathing to his nose because every time he tries to breathe fully through his mouth, his throat scraps and his dry lips crack. Additionally, he’s pulling the cotton and it’s scratching at the corners of his lips, causing further irritation. He can already taste the iron and he doesn’t want to do any more damage to his body than necessary.

 

The clock starts ticking for them. Jongdae can see it in their nervous glances at phones and watches alike. There is probably an intended audience but Jongdae doubts that anyone will come. He’s not particularly special, just a neutral party in between, though he does favour Junmyeon and Yifan at times. In return, he’s been told that he’s a favourite, but that means nothing in a world where everything is easily replaced.

 

So Jongdae sits without any expectations but he ends up getting a surprise. By some miracle, Jongdae’s former and on-going clients prove his bluff right. Amongst the people that he’s worked with, Jongdae recognises a few faces. They have sent some people that are not at the top of the chain, but it will do. Unfortunately, dumb people like Chanyeol come directly. As soon as Jongdae spots him, he groans in frustration. Yifan’s no different but they’ve known each other long enough to claim friendship so that’s the difference. As far as Jongdae knows, Yifan is fierce and strong. Chanyeol, he’s not so sure about. Jongdae raises a brow at Chanyeol in particular, because he’s got a gummy smile on his face while the others wear their most intimidating look.

 

“That looks good on you, doc.” Chanyeol grins, arching his brow suggestively.

 

He’s totally ignoring the atmosphere. Jongdae shoots daggers with his eyes. He’s not one for bondage. He might have a liking for blood though and if Chanyeol wants to play with that then Jongdae would be willing. He does appreciate the help but damn, is that what’s going through Chanyeol’s mind? _Who_ is the Phoenix anyway? Too many people have shown up, Jongdae doesn’t know where to focus his attention.

 

“Hey hyung.”

 

Jongdae squints to see the boy walking in. His figure is familiar, but it is not until he’s standing as close as Yifan and Chanyeol is, that Jongdae recognises him as the _sleepyhead_ from the store. There’s no way the boy is here to retrieve him because he’s worried about the sales for banana milk is he? As much as Jongdae likes to joke, he knows that that’s going too far. The convenience store clerk that Jongdae knows as Jongin from his nametag laughs with his whole face lighting up. He’s still such a child, why the hell is he here?

 

“Suho hyung couldn’t make it so I’m here on his behalf,” Jongin says. “But I _am_ worried about the milk,” he adds, as if reading Jongdae’s mind. “You’re the only other one that comes in for them.”

 

Kim Junmyeon is the only man in this business that Jongdae would agree deserves the title _Suho_. It’s unfitting occupation wise but somehow, seems to make sense in this situation. The man had been kindly trying to get Jongdae to join his ranks as the private doctor so that he’d have some security. Well, fuck. That clearly means that the sleepyhead has been keeping tabs on him. Junmyeon might not be as nice as he looks or as gentle as he sounds.

 

“My, my, doctor,” L laughs. “You really are everyone’s favourite.”

 

Jongdae purposefully waggles his brows, like he knows his own self worth, _told you so_. Jongdae can see that more trouble will come to him now that everyone _knows_ but that cannot be helped. There was never any certainty that Jongdae could hide forever. Jongdae knew he needed saving at some point and now that it’s here, he can only be grateful.

 

“You haven’t treated our favourite so well,” Yifan replies, lips curled sharply. “Though I suppose that mouth is a bit more trouble than it’s worth.” Jongdae darts his eyes and shoots them at Yifan. Yifan is not wrong but there is no need to be like that? Yifan just chuckles. “Your conditions, Sungkyu?”

 

As they discuss, there’s bickering on the other side. Chanyeol cuts in loudly, whining about the fact that Yifan’s taking the lead and Jongin, steps in, eyes glazed over, taking on responsibility of the task that Junmyeon had set. They’re having friendly banter and Jongdae can only gawk. They’re here with one objective and that’s to _save_ Jongdae, so must they fight?

 

Sungkyu, finally a name to the face, clears his throat, “I have no business with you today, Yifan. Nor the rest of you,” he gestures to a crowd of people from a range of different groups that Jongdae has tended to in the past few years, “The invitation was extended to Phoenix. I don’t want trouble with the rest of you, so please take your leave.”

 

The spectrum is broad and no one really moves so Jongdae has no idea who the actually address is for. It really looks like they’d only planned on Phoenix—whoever that is. Can they just tell Jongdae already so he can think through the appropriate punishment? Yifan exchanges a glance, at Jongin and then Chanyeol. They decide on something in silence and turn back to Sungkyu, determination renewed.

 

“Neither do we,” Yifan says and Chanyeol continues. “Let the doc go and we can talk.”

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes. There’s no way that’s going to cut it. Talking is clearly not what Sungkyu wants. They try anyway, a weird bargaining thing going on that Jongdae doesn’t quiet comprehend. He’s got the medical intelligence but they’re not saying anything of the kind. Jongdae assumes that the _Phoenix_ had pissed someone off but that’s the basic.

 

“I’d like it if we could reach a compromise,” Yifan offers once again, with a sigh.

 

Jongdae hears it again, the possible debate that they will go through but that’s not how it goes down this time around. As soon as Sungkyu refuses, Yifan changes his whole demeanour, smile dropping from his face in an instant. It causes Jongdae to tense up because he’s seen it before, that rough edge to Yifan that even sandpaper cannot soften.

 

“This has nothing to do with you, Yifan,” Sungkyu replies. “We’ve been on relatively good terms. There’s no need to resort to this—”

 

“Didn’t you hear me?” Yifan cuts in and points at Jongdae rudely. “ _That’s_ mine.”

 

Jongdae jerks in his chair but can’t even say anything. It is Chanyeol that pipes up in his stead, challenging Yifan’s words and then claiming Jongdae for himself. Jongin is the sensible one, jumping in to tell them to stop being childish only to tack on very seriously that Jongdae belongs to Suho. Jongdae just stares at his audience—didn’t they just agree to call a truce so that they can get Jongdae the fuck out of here already?

 

Their argument goes in circles. Sungkyu seems to be confused but also slightly amused by the show. Jongdae thinks that it’s a good distraction for him to try and get away. He attempts to get to his feet and run with the chair attached—but the conversation was really a distraction for Sungkyu and his men. As soon as Jongdae gets the chair of the ground, he drops it back down again out of shock.

 

A precise rifle shot that has Jongdae’s blood coiling in fear. The man that had been guarding him flies away, causing him to squeak in response. Everything breaks loose. Jongdae takes the chance and rolls aside with the chair attached to him. Instinctively, Jongdae knows that it’s Amber but before he manages to dart his eyes to find her, his is jerked backwards and the gag is ripped from his lips. Jongdae whines but water is poured gently into his mouth to relieve his thirst. Jongdae hasn’t had much food or water for days. When he’d first come into the business, Yifan had warned him about taking anything given when held hostages.

 

“Yifan says you’re good at listening.”

 

Jongdae blinks confused. He doesn’t understand a single word of Mandarin but he recognises the long brown wavy hair that had been on the operating table a few months back. He chokes on the constant flow of water, “Liyin?”

 

She beams, breaking into broken Korean. “I came to save, this time!”

 

Jongdae tears a smile even though it hurts. There’s something about her that makes him smile. She’s very cute and he can see the brightness behind her eyes. It’s clear as day, why Yifan had gathered all that he had considered to be the best for her. Her smile is definitely distracting. Jongdae can hear the crossfire in the background but he actually feels safe. Whatever that is happen, Liyin blocks out with her brightness.

 

Before Jongdae knows it, the war is over. He can see the causalities and hopes that there aren’t any deaths, but knows that that is just wishful thinking. As soon as everything calms down, Yifan walks over and pulls him to his feet. Jongdae mumbles a small thanks as Yifan steps closer, cutting the ropes that tie Jongdae to the chair.

 

“This one’s mine,” Yifan announces to those that remain standing, turning Jongdae’s head and pushing it against his chest, nibbling his ear. “Make sure you check your facts.”

 

“You bit—” Jongdae yelps, jerking in Yifan’s grip but to no avail. Jongdae makes sure to knee Yifan because he’d done it on purpose. Even if it hurts, Yifan doesn’t wince.

 

“Shh,” Yifan mouths against his hair instead. He hands pressed against the back of Jongdae’s head and pushes it forward with a little force of warning. “Ribs.”

 

“That was a result of CPR!” Jongdae hisses.

 

Jongdae only manages to register a fraction of Yifan’s smirk before he’s pulled into someone else’s warmth. Jongdae sees him and his lips parting in words, but he barely hears them, right ear pressed against Chanyeol’s chest and left, covered by Yifan’s hand. He’s got an eyebrow raised but Yifan ignores him, leaning in again, only this time to rest his chin on Jongdae’s head and lips close to Chanyeol’s ear.

 

“You need to do a better job at hiding your treasure, Phoenix.”

 

Yifan pulls away and pats Jongdae’s head with another one of his small smiles and then retreats. Amber follows behind him and they’re quick, so he doesn’t have the time to ask—not that Chanyeol plans to let him go anytime soon anyway. Jongdae’s still got the ropes tightly pulled around his wrist and Chanyeol’s death grip on his whole body. It’s getting too warm. Chanyeol tightens his grip on Jongdae instinctively, but he stays still and quiet.

 

Then, someone with an odd air passes by him, causing Jongdae to shudder. They’re almost the same height and maybe even the same build too, but his aura is completely different from everyone else that Jongdae has met. Jongdae remembers the feeling vividly—it’s Zhang Yixing but Jongdae cannot remember what it is that Yixing actually does for Junmyeon. Chanyeol stares at Yixing as he walks pass to study the body lying pliant on the floor.

 

“Ah,” Jongin pipes up. “That’s our Undertaker. Don’t worry about him.”

 

“Oh,” Chanyeol mouths, “Alright.”

 

He’s still holding onto Jongdae like if he were to let go, Jongdae would disappear into thin air. Jongdae contemplates saying something but decides to put it off because the corners of his mouth are starting to burn up. Every brush of air that comes across with the breaths that he takes is ripping into the wound viciously. He hopes that Chanyeol will have enough sense to let him go, but Chanyeol doesn’t.

 

“You know if you don’t let me go soon,” Jongdae says as casually as possible. He’s still got the scalpel tucked away. He doesn’t have the strength to utilise it but Chanyeol doesn’t need to know the nitty gritty details. “I’m going to cut you open.”

 

Chanyeol laughs lightly, “That’s why I’m taking advantage.”

 

“Oh?” Jongdae hums, raising his knee, “This’ll be fun.”

 

Even if he cannot use his arms, Jongdae uses his leg. He’s never actually had the opportunity to try it, but seeing Chanyeol kneel over in pain, convinces him that it may be a feasible weapon.

 

* * *

 

Although there is no threat of harm at present, Jongdae still feels unsettled. It’s a feeling that he knows, but is not quite used to. Attempting to distract himself, Jongdae rubs his wrists continuously even though he knows that he shouldn’t. He is aggravating the wound and that’s no good, but his skin is annoying him. He’s aware of the wound so he is constantly touching despite the knowledge telling him that he shouldn’t.

 

“You’re going to make it worst, doc.” Chanyeol chides, grabbing one of his hands and linking their fingers lazily. He takes the chance to play with Jongdae’s thin and fragile fingers while he’s at it. Jongdae looks tired so Chanyeol hopes he doesn’t put up a fight. “Here, I’ll distract you.”

 

“That’s none of your business,” Jongdae spits, tugging his hand away. “Why am I in your car anyway?”

 

He doesn’t understand why Yifan had left him behind or why Jongin had decided to ditch him, even though he was loudly claiming that Jongdae belonged to Suho. Why is it Chanyeol that is insisting on taking Jongdae home? Jongdae is kind of upset at his long time friends. What’s the point of showing up if they’re not going to see him home safely until the end?

 

“Because I talked to your landlady,” Chanyeol reasons.

 

Jongdae groans. He’s so going to get kicked out.

 

“I got the window fixed and convinced her that it was a baseball,” Chanyeol informs. “Stick with the story, won’t you?”

 

Jongdae frowns evidently. He’s glad that the landlady had brought the lie but he still feels bad about the damage to property. He mumbles his thanks to Chanyeol because he’s still a little annoyed. Chanyeol just beams brightly, even as Jongdae elbows him in a disgruntled manner for some extra space. Thankfully Chanyeol shifts an inch to give Jongdae some space. The rest of the ride is conducted in silence because Jongdae nods off. Chanyeol nudges him awake when they arrive and Jongdae groggily gets out of the car. The fresh air helps to wake him a little and Jongdae bows at the car as thanks before he turns to walk towards the door. However, Jongdae doesn’t get very far.

 

“Ah!” Chanyeol wails as the engine rumbles. “Wait for me you asses!”

 

Jongdae turns to look at the speeding car and deflates. “You really think I’m going to buy that?”

 

Chanyeol pouts. “Just let me stay? I’m worried about you.”

 

Jongdae scoffs. Even if he denies the request, Chanyeol will probably break and enter again anyway. Even if Chanyeol doesn’t, Jongdae isn’t the ungrateful type. Chanyeol had come for him (even if it was his fault to begin with and even though he didn’t have to come) so Jongdae owes him that much. If it’s going to be difficult to get home and Jongdae has space, he may has well repay the debt now.

 

“It’s not all your fault,” Jongdae reasons as he opens the door. He knows the risks of the business. Junmyeon had warned him and Yifan had too. Jongdae knows the consequences and he knows that there’s no one to blame but himself for his choices. “And it’s not the first time either so stop sulking about it.”

 

Chanyeol’s frown drags downwards even further. He knows what this world is like and what kind of trouble comes with it, but Jongdae is a neutral party—single party even. They shouldn’t have done that, even if it was to get to him. Or them. Chanyeol can no longer tell the objective with such a large group showing up for the doctor. Chanyeol knew that Jongdae was a good doctor, but he didn’t know that Jongdae was insanely popular.

 

“They didn’t do anything else to you, did they?” Chanyeol asks, falling into slow steps with Jongdae as he Jongdae inspects his home. “Doc?”

 

“No,” Jongdae mutters with a little pout as he pulls his head out of the fridge. There’s no banana milk. “Just some work on some wounds.”

 

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol presses, coming close and staring at Jongdae intently. “Tell me the truth.”

 

“Well…” Jongdae averts his eyes, “They…”

 

Chanyeol nods seriously. Jongdae meets Chanyeol’s eyes and hesitates. He watches as Chanyeol’s eyes sharpen—like he’s all ready to get revenge. It’s the first time since their meeting that Jongdae actually feels like Chanyeol is dangerous.

 

“Didn’t give me any banana milk,” Jongdae finishes, “Do you think you can get me some?”

 

Chanyeol blinks and the expression is gone, “Huh?”

 

“Banana milk,” Jongdae repeats. “Can you get me some?”

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol answers and it’s probably reflexive because he retracts it immediately, “Wait no. You’re trying to get rid of me.”

 

“Ch’,” Jongdae clicks his tongue.

 

Jongdae wasn’t counting on the attempt to work but it still pisses him off when it doesn’t. Stalking off, Jongdae opens the door to his room and finds comfort in the familiar arrangement. Sighing contently, Jongdae rolls into bed and curls up in his pillow and blankets. Without any tact, Chanyeol follows Jongdae inside and copies Jongdae’s actions precisely.

 

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae groans. “There’s a couch?”

 

“Not even offering me the spare room?” Chanyeol pouts, turning his face to the side and facing Jongdae. “How are you still so mean after what you just went through?”

 

Jongdae blows a raspberry and turns around to face the wall. He doesn’t have the energy for this. Jongdae is at home so he wants to feel at home but Chanyeol’s presence is a reminder. Sighing, Jongdae closes his eyes and takes even breathes to calm himself down. Jongdae knows that he is finally home but it still doesn’t feel like it.

 

“Jongdae?” Chanyeol asks and Jongdae almost scoffs at his attempt to be distracting. “Are you sleeping?”

 

“Yes,” Jongdae answers reflexively—it’s his usual teasing answer to Kyungsoo and he groans as he turns back to face Chanyeol. “What do you want Chanyeol?”

 

“How does someone get involved in something like this?” Chanyeol asks, brushing Jongdae’s hair aside and it’s a pointless attempt because the strands fall back into place. “You’ve got friends that are normal. And, you worked in a hospital at some point too.”

 

Jongdae smirks. He doesn’t really want an answer. “I could say the same for you.”

 

“I’m happy to tell you,” Chanyeol smiles. “You’re finally showing some interest in me!”

 

“Another word and I’ll kick you out,” Jongdae knits his brows together. There are policies and it seems that Chanyeol’s intent on breaking every one of them. Jongdae is not. “Just shut up while I’m being nice.”

 

Chanyeol can’t argue with that notion. He’s in the doctor’s bed after all. And they’re talking unlike any of his previous visits. Chanyeol wants to treasure this moment for a while longer because he doesn’t think another chance will come. Jongdae is probably only being agreeable because he’s tired.

 

“You can pretend I’m your friend,” Chanyeol says. Jongdae’s got a few in Luhan and Minseok but it’s Kyungsoo that Chanyeol envies. “The little short guy that you like a lot.”

 

Friendship can be a good start, seeing as Jongdae _adores_ that one friend of his so much. It excites Chanyeol to think of the possibility of being a _lover_ but there are careful steps to take.

 

“No one is as squishy as he,” Jongdae shoots back.

 

Only Kyungsoo is capable of lulling Jongdae to sleep with the most ease. They’ve been friends for as long as he can remember. Kyungsoo is his first of most and almost his everything. Kyungsoo is Jongdae’s home. The place that Jongdae can return to without being questioned, no matter how rugged up he may look. Kyungsoo is accepting and will always have his arms open, though he may, ask Jongdae to clean up before using them.

 

“I could be warmer,” Chanyeol challenges.

 

Jongdae cracks a smile, “How’d you find out that I’ve worked in a hospital before?”

 

“Um,” Chanyeol licks his lips nervously.

 

Jongdae stares at him carefully. Jongdae wants a truthful answer. He needs to know how Chanyeol managed to find that out. Jongdae has always tried his best to keep a distance. Neither Suho or Yifan know because Jongdae has threatened to cut ties with them if they tried to investigate him. That’s why they don’t know anything about Jongdae’s private life. Or they might know but aren’t saying it. Jongdae cannot be sure, but he’s learnt to trust them. Chanyeol is a different story though. Jongdae has a feeling that Chanyeol is too close, but he doesn’t want to rely on his feelings alone. Jongdae needs solid evidence.

 

Jongdae sighs and he makes sure to sound tired, “Chanyeol.”

 

“Luhan,” Chanyeol blurts out and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry for prying.”

 

“Luhan,” Jongdae repeats with a sigh.

 

“Don’t kill him,” Chanyeol begs and Jongdae laughs because _Chanyeol_ is saying the most ridiculous thing for a mafia boss. “Please.”

 

“I won’t,” Jongdae clears his throat—but he will tease Luhan a whole lot as revenge. “Did he tell you what he thinks happened?”

 

Chanyeol shakes his head and Jongdae nods. Jongdae hasn’t thought about it in a long time but now that the topic is up, the memory comes flooding back. His final year of residency had been going well until a patient came back in with a malpractice lawsuit against the surgery department for leaving a sponge inside the patient’s body and then denying it. Although Jongdae had not been on the surgery team, he had been the one to take the hit because his superiors had been so kind. Jongdae had disappointed Baekhyun then and found it hard to explain. It still is but that’s why Kyungsoo keeps telling him to try.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Jongdae’s sleepiness makes him generous, “Aside from this question?”

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol answers.

 

There’s a moment of silence as Chanyeol watches Jongdae’s eyes flutter open and close. His face is serene, but the purple bruises marring his skin must still hurt. Chanyeol blinks in time with Jongdae, waiting for an answer but Jongdae doesn’t really give him one. His chest continues to rise and fall at a steady pace but his eyes droop ever so slowly, attention waning.

 

“It’s clear that you’re everyone’s favourite,” Chanyeol starts, watching Jongdae’s eyes flutter to a close. “But who’s _your_ favourite?”

 

* * *

 

When Jongdae comes to, his bed is empty. He didn’t expect Chanyeol to stay but it’s hard to wake and find the bed cold when it was previously warm. Chanyeol’s scent, mixed between smoke and firearm linger, but he is nowhere to be found. Good riddance, Jongdae wants to think, but the cold is a difficult enemy to beat. This is why he sleeps with Kyungsoo rather than anyone else. Kyungsoo is Jongdae’s most trustworthy and reliable friend. Jongdae is a little annoyed but now that he’s awake and cold, there’s no way to go back to bed.

 

Groaning, Jongdae pulls himself out of his bed and pads silently into the living room. It’s the same—the window is fixed and his home is spotless. The history of invasion had been neatly erased. Jongdae remembers that there is no banana milk and almost gives up on breakfast. When Jongdae goes for a cold cup of water, there is a surprise inside. A bottle of banana milk is in there, dated for _two_ weeks from now. Jongdae blinks, wondering if he’s still asleep, but there’s no doubt about it.

 

Jongdae is happily nibbling on his cereal when the door clicks open. Knowing who it is, Jongdae stays seated and shoves one spoon after another—of what could be the very last banana milk cereal breakfast—into his mouth. He had managed a glance at the calendar and knows that he’s in deep trouble. It’s Kyungsoo because he’s the one with the spare key. Jongdae makes a show of smiling when Kyungsoo comes in, waving his spoon, inviting Kyungsoo for breakfast.

 

“Is it time to be smiling at me?” Kyungsoo hisses, Jongdae flashes a smile even though he’s not really looking. When he does, Kyungsoo does a double take, eyes blowing wide now that he’s _really_ paying attention. “The fuck happened to you?”

 

Kyungsoo had come to talk about the all the trouble he’d gotten from Baekhyun’s nagging because Jongdae had missed the wedding, but now he’s completely worried about something else. He’s by the kitchen table to drag Jongdae to the living room with force. He doesn’t notice that he’s hurting the man until Jongdae’s seated on the couch and wincing loudly.

 

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo shouts angrily, “Jongdae!”

 

“Don’t scream my name like that,” Jongdae raises a brow with a small smile. “You’re going to give my neighbours the wrong idea.”

                                                                                               

Kyungsoo raises his fists but doesn’t actually hurt Jongdae. Jongdae looks like he’s in enough pain as it is, if he’s having trouble giving Kyungsoo the eye and the wide Cheshire smile. Kyungsoo does however, kick the couch in warning as he gets up to go and fetch Jongdae’s first aid kit. Kyungsoo had gifted the kit to Jongdae after Jongdae had gotten rid of his medical equipments. It’s not even a miracle that he finds it, because as much as Jongdae hates getting into contact with those items, he’d never get rid of presents. That’s the sentimental side of him that he hasn’t been able to get rid of along with his heart to save others.

 

“What the hell happened?” Kyungsoo asks, even though he’s fairly certain that Jongdae isn’t going to give him the answer he wants to hear. It’s not really a question anymore, just frustration and Jongdae knows that he doesn’t have to answer. Sometimes though, Jongdae feels like he should. Jongdae swallows. Jongdae doesn’t know how to say it though. But Jongdae doesn’t have to, because Kyungsoo continues. “You’re not doing a very good job at taking care.”

 

Kyungsoo dabs ointments at Jongdae’s wounds and flinches when his best friend winces, jerking backwards. It probably hurts a lot more than Jongdae is willing to let on. Jongdae has high sensitivity to pain and so he’s always avoided hurting himself. This is the most roughed up Kyungsoo has ever seen him. They’ve even engaged in fists before as students but Jongdae’s always managed to escape unscathed so that he can nurse Kyungsoo back to health. This is actually the first time that Kyungsoo is the one doing the nursing. It brings back a sense of odd déjà vu.

 

“I’m only going to say one thing to you,” Kyungsoo frowns.

 

“Oh,” Jongdae mirrors his expression. “That was pretty pointless then.”

 

Kyungsoo elbows him extra hard, reflexively. “Listen.”

 

Jongdae kneels over, managing a small croak of obedience, “Y-yes, my love.”

 

“If you don’t know the depth of the water, don’t enter.”

 

Kyungsoo is always the one with the wise words and hidden messages. He’s asking Jongdae to confirm his safety. Unfortunately, it’s a bit too late for this. No matter how it looks, Jongdae is already in too deep. Jongdae has kept Kyungsoo a secret from everyone that he can to assure Kyungsoo’s safety, but there is nothing Jongdae can do for himself. Jongdae’s weakness is his attachment to those regulars. He’s fond of Yifan and harbours a crush on Junmyeon. Then there’s Jinki who’s just wonderful in every aspect. Jongdae has friends here, that he’d not trade for the world he was in before.

 

Kyungsoo is waiting for him but before he can answer, there’s an obnoxious knock at the door. Both of them groan because there’s only one person who is that violent in their circle of friends. Jongdae knows it instinctively, but he still reaches for Kyungsoo’s arm with pleading eyes.

 

“You didn’t let him trail you…” Jongdae whines. “Soo-yah.”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. There’s not much else he can do. They both know that an encounter is inevitable. Korea isn’t very big and if Baekhyun wanted, he would have found Jongdae even without Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo gets up to get the door and Jongdae rolls into the thin cotton blanket. He’s very sorry that he’d missed the wedding but he’s not ready to deal with this. Curling into it, Jongdae leans to the side of the couch and attempts at sleeping pretence.

 

“Yah, Kim Jongdae!” Baekhyun shouts loudly. “Get your ass out here!”

 

Jongdae jumps in his seat, cringing. He hears Baekhyun storming through and Kyungsoo hitting the wall because Baekhyun had definitely pushed him. He’s done a lot of avoiding and knows that he deserves the lecture but Jongdae still feels queasy about it. Jongdae had wanted to apologise with his appearance at the wedding but he had definitely screwed that up. By the sound of Baekhyun’s voice, Jongdae knows that feigning sleep isn’t going to win him this fight.

 

“I’m sorry Baekhyun,” Jongdae pleads, head buried into the beige couch. “I’m not fit to talk to you today. I’m—”

 

“No,” Baekhyun insists. He reaches out and curls his fingers on the thin blanket, pushing and pulling. Jongdae’s protest is weak at best. The material rubs against his wounds and they sting. Once he’s got the blanket off and a view of Jongdae’s face, Baekhyun recoils immediately. “What the hell happened to you?”

 

Baekhyun has never seen… well, he has now. Jongdae’s cheeks are swollen as are his lips. It looks like he’s been bitten but that’s not even the worst part. The corners of his lips have been torn and they swell with red rashes. His wrists aren’t that much different. It looks like trouble but Jongdae looks safe overall. Kyungsoo is here too, so it means that Jongdae is still okay.

 

“Oh, well,” Jongdae pauses, reconsiders his battle plan and then raises his brows in Kyungsoo’s direction, trying for a smile but winces as he tugs his lips, “The usual.”

 

Baekhyun makes a face, grossed out, “Good God Soo, leave him presentable at least.”

 

“Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your wedding,” Jongdae says sadly, puppy eyes and all, to go with the show. Jongdae is not the best a frontal confrontation with close friends so this might be the best choice to getting things to slide. “I wanted to go but… this is just plain inappropriate, right?”

 

Jongdae makes a show of wincing as he tries to move on the couch to make space for Baekhyun. Baekhyun stares as Jongdae rubs his hips and curls up in the corner of the couch with a whine on his lips. Jongdae looks like he’s in a lot of pain, but he doesn’t look the least remorseful. The thought of what has brought this on, is horrifying.

 

Baekhyun makes a face. “I don’t need to hear those details.”

 

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo pulls on his collar, “What have I said about being suggestive?”

 

Baekhyun cuts in between them with his flailing arms, “Don’t show it to me either!”

 

Jongdae laughs, cheerily and pulls Kyungsoo back, to sit in the middle of them all.

 

“Since you’re here, let’s have a movie marathon or something.”

 

Baekhyun eyes them, all cuddly and shit. “And you’re making me do the work?”

 

Jongdae shrugs and Kyungsoo gets comfortable. For all the trouble that Kyungsoo has getting himself into, he’s going to sit back and relax. Kyungsoo doesn’t really want to work Jongdae either. Those are some serious wounds. However, Kyungsoo does work his way around Jongdae’s damaged limbs to cuddle him. He’s not usually the type, but the little protective side of him is showing.

 

“Talk to me,” Kyungsoo mumbles into Jongdae’s hair, “When you’re ready.”

 

“And Baekhyun,” Jongdae chuckles, because that’s the underlying message. “I promise.”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles, lips pressed against his hair, “Okay.”

 

Jongdae blinks up at him, slow and steady—kitten like. He parts his lips and closes it again in search for words. When it finally looks like he has something to say, the television stand jerks and both of them jump on the couch. They catch Baekhyun with his hands and feet on the handle, trying to get it open. It’s a funny sight and neither of them bothers to help. Instead, they stay seated, crackling into each other because it’s fun to bully their friend.

 

“Why is it locked?!” Baekhyun demands.

 

Jongdae twists his head around with a little smile, “Oh, the left department, Baekhyun.”

 

“What are you hiding in the right?” Baekhyun mumbles, loud enough to be heard.

 

“My stash of porn,” Jongdae waves him off with a laugh and a suggestively raised brow. “Unless you’re interested?”

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol is just a little bit fidgety at the door. He’s worried that he’ll have to pick the lock again, though a brief discussion with both Yifan and Junmyeon had assured him that they’ve taken careful measures to ensure that those same thugs will not be picking on Jongdae again. It sounded like child play in their talk and Chanyeol had felt particularly small, especially seeing as he’s the one that’s newest to the group of Jongdae’s frequent visitors. But to Chanyeol’s surprise the door opens. Sadly, it’s not Jongdae.

 

“Ah? It’s you again.”

 

Chanyeol hopes he looks imposing, but the eyes that are staring up at him are much more intimidating and they are on a completely different level. Aside from the playful Luhan and caring Minseok, Jongdae also has a protective friend in Kyungsoo. It really makes Chanyeol wonder why Jongdae had taken such a dark path.

 

“I’m sure you can tell me why he’s like that,” Kyungsoo states plainly.

 

Jongdae has grown secretive over the last few years—it’s understandable, but Kyungsoo still worries. He doesn’t have the answer, but this new and frequent visitor might. If it’s dangerous, Kyungsoo’s going to hang Chanyeol and then get Jongdae out.

 

“Um,” Chanyeol stammers incoherently. “That is… well. Last night—”

 

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, arms still folded menacingly. He doesn’t know what type of person Chanyeol is, but from the frequency of his visits in Jongdae’s life, he’s probably someone who will become a permanent presence. Kyungsoo glares at Chanyeol but leaves his final judgment locked up inside. Kyungsoo doesn’t ever say anything because that’s how he is. Jongdae is like that too, towards him. They’re best friends with relatively safe boundaries.

 

Chanyeol swallows at the glare. “I swear it will _not_ happen again.”

 

He thinks he’ll be turned away in the silence, but Kyungsoo actually lets Chanyeol in. Kyungsoo huffs the whole way, muttering something about irresponsibility under his breath, but Chanyeol’s still stunned to silence. Sighing, Kyungsoo turns back and tries to be less intimidating by waving him in, but it seems to have the opposite effect. Kyungsoo isn’t inviting Chanyeol in for death or anything off the like but Chanyeol seems to be frozen.

 

“Shoes off,” Kyungsoo states as he makes his way back in. “Jongdae hates it when you step on his carpet with shoes.”

 

Chanyeol toes it off carefully. It’s a habit for him but sometimes, he does forget, especially when most of Jongdae’s apartment is tile. He doesn’t want his feet to go cold, but Jongdae does have an array of carpets scattered.

 

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo calls, pulling on Baekhyun’s ear, “Get up. We’re leaving.”

 

Baekhyun stirs away sluggishly and glares all around. He’d been pressed against Jongdae’s warmth, how dare Kyungsoo wake him up in the middle of that? Baekhyun snuggles close, puts the middle finger up, mumbling. “Why—”

 

“Should a recently married man sound so upset about going home?” Kyungsoo asks, tugging to hurt. “Hurry up. Jongdae will be fine.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, because you’re _so_ gentle with him,” Baekhyun bites back sleepily, “I swear to God, the things you two—woah, the fuck—”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes settle on Chanyeol, neck craned upwards, because fuck, the guy is tall. Baekhyun feels slightly disoriented and maybe it’s normal, because his two closest friends are as short as he is. Chanyeol is grinning despite the things that Baekhyun is indicating about the depth of Kyungsoo and Jongdae’s relationship.

 

“Chanyeol,” he extends a hand, “I’m a friend.”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes widen significantly—there’s no way that Kyungsoo’s entrusting Jongdae into the care of another person. He’s known the both of them long enough to know exactly how protective they are over each. This is Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, who despite loving Baekhyun to bits, still managed to shut Baekhyun out for six fucking months after that bloody lawsuit so that he could protect Jongdae.

 

“Do you _know_ him, Soo?”

 

Kyungsoo gives him a look but says nothing concrete. Instead, he just tugs Baekhyun away and shoves Chanyeol into his place. Chanyeol is about ready to protest but Jongdae’s head falls upon his shoulder and he finds his mouth shutting, smile tugging at his lips in affection.

 

Kyungsoo glares at Chanyeol, “I’m entrusting him to you.”

 

Kyungsoo kindly puts the television on so that Chanyeol is not bored out of his mind. Baekhyun is whining but Kyungsoo puts a hold on him and drags him out, the door clicking quietly so that Jongdae sleeps. It isn’t until twenty minutes in that Chanyeol realises that it’s a horror playlist. He shouldn’t even be surprised because he had rocked in and found Jongdae and Kyungsoo watching one last time.

 

* * *

 

Jongdae wakes with a figure shivering against him, whole body shaking against his. It’s unsettling but he is careful in moving about. His lips are dry again and he can feel the sting as he tries to breath. His hands are still sore and despite reflexes, knowledge kicks in first. There’s no way that Kyungsoo will leave him behind. Jongdae jerks and looks around himself because the _whimpering_ sound is not coming from the television.

 

Jongdae mumbles. “Baek? It’s not that scary, is it?”

 

There’s a groan in response and Jongdae is being pulled closer. Not Baekhyun then. Baekhyun is touchy and feely but the person that he’d go to for comfort in face of fear would be Kyungsoo rather than Jongdae. Jongdae has a tendency to bully him at times like these, so he knows to avoid the trauma.

 

“No!” Chanyeol exclaims, jumping him.

 

“What the—”

 

Jongdae raises his hands into the air and keeps his body wholly still as Chanyeol buries his face against Jongdae’s chest. He doesn’t want to hurt his wrists anymore, but he doesn’t want to be hugged either. Carefully, Jongdae reaches over to switch the channels around and then peels Chanyeol off with his fingers clipped tightly to the collar. Chanyeol almost chokes in retaliation but Jongdae doesn’t relent until there’s enough space between them.

 

“What kind of… mobster are you?” Jongdae frowns, settling back down on the further side of the couch.

 

“Jongdae…?” Chanyeol whines, eyes finally opening. “Why was the whole playlist horror? I don’t think your friend likes me very much!”

 

Jongdae blinks once and then twice, gaining some clarity. Kyungsoo and Baekhyun are no longer around. He looks up and notes the ghost crawling on the screen and laughs. They were on action before he fell asleep. He’d lost to Baekhyun and instead of romantic comedies Kyungsoo had threatened Baekhyun into choosing action.

 

“Did Kyungsoo ask you…?”

 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nods, still shivering. “I apologised.”

 

“Ah,” Jongdae snickers. “That’s why.”

 

Chanyeol doesn’t think that it’s funny but he likes looking at Jongdae’s laughter so he bites down on his lips and keeps his silence. Jongdae gets up and walks around to switch on the light. When everything is bright again, Chanyeol relaxes. Jongdae comes back with a jar of ointment for his hands and sinks down onto the couch, getting comfortable.

 

“I’ll do it,” Chanyeol offers.

 

He yanks the ointment jar out of Jongdae’s hands and steals the small spatula while he’s at it.

 

“What are you even doing here?” Jongdae questions.

 

“I was worried that you were worried,” Chanyeol mumbles, hands pressing gently. “I’d left without a word so…”

 

“You think too highly of yourself,” Jongdae flicks his forehead harshly. When his hand is in the air, Jongdae takes time to study the work. Chanyeol had been even and thorough enough to make sure that he covered every part of the wound so that it does not become worst. “Oh? Pretty good.”

 

“I’m not as clumsy as you think I am,” Chanyeol shoots back. “And I can take care of myself, with smaller injuries too.”

 

“Hm,” Jongdae hums, glancing over at the headlines of the news.

 

Jongdae’s not surprised that there’s nothing on the news this time either. Jongdae has meet Yixing very briefly once and Junmyeon had told Jongdae that he shouldn’t anticipate another meeting—though it’s very likely that when he does, Yixing will be prettying up his body to bury it. Jongin had given away the answer to Junmyeon’s cryptic clue.

 

“So,” Jongdae changes the topic, eyes still fixed on the screen. “You’re Phoenix, right?”

 

“Hm,” Chanyeol hums, nodding his head in affirmation. “Did they say things about me?”

 

Jongdae shrugs, “Not really.”

 

Chanyeol stares at him, watching carefully. They are bound to have said things. This world is run by words, whether or not they are true. Chanyeol looks worried but Jongdae doesn’t bother relieving him. They aren’t close enough for Jongdae to show that kind of care. But Jongdae is the type that only believes what he sees so nothing Sungkyu and his men said have really stuck.

 

“Stop looking at me,” Jongdae demands, jabbing Chanyeol’s waist with the sharp corner of his elbow.

 

“Ow,” Chanyeol whines, “You’re meaner now that you’ve recovered.”

 

“You’re troublesome,” Jongdae sighs. It’s about time that he gets Chanyeol back for all the pain that Chanyeol has given him. Comparing might do the trick. “Whether it’s Suho or Kris, they haven’t gotten me into trouble before.”

 

“But you keep me around,” Chanyeol argues in response.

 

Jongdae rolls his eyes, “You bring in the money.”

 

“I haven’t been,” Chanyeol mutters and then looks up at Jongdae defiantly. “Why can’t you just admit that you like me?”

 

Jongdae stares for a little, in search. “Maybe it’s because _you_ almost got me killed.”

 

“That’s Phoenix,” Chanyeol chuckles softly, like he’s somehow gotten the upper hand, “How about Chanyeol?”

 

It takes a moment to register and when he finally manages, Jongdae splutters incoherently. Jongdae clears his throat and then glares, refusing to admit that he’d fallen for that set up. Chanyeol grins anyway, declaring himself the victor this time around with a tight hug.

 

(Jongdae doesn’t know it yet, but this for his heart, this is the beginning of the end.)

 

_Fin._


End file.
